


Grey Prince

by VVSIGNOFTHECROSS



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:59:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 75
Words: 86,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS/pseuds/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robb Stark, son of the Honourable Lord of Winterfell, a man made in the mould of the old Kings of Winter, a Grey Prince.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**4th th Month of 299 A.C. Bitterbridge**

**King Renly I Baratheon**

There was a chill in the air, it seemed the Starks were right as they always were, winter was coming, and on it the war of blood that he had always known would come had come. Eddard Stark was dead, some four moons dead, and his blood still filled the streets of King’s Landing according to Renly’s sources within the city. It seemed Cersei’s brat had done something that Robert had never been able to do, he had united the people of King’s Landing against him that was something Renly intended to use. Yet there was a feeling he got from all the reports that something different was occurring, he did not feel half as confident as he had done that long ago day when he had offered to give his swords to Stark, the honourable fool that Stark was, he had refused and now he was dead.

Word was reaching him of Robb Stark, known as the Grey King for his armour, and of the prowess he was making. It seemed the Stark pup had humiliated Tywin Lannister on numerous occasions, that was something Renly laughed at and yet there was a sense of frustration within him at the fact that the pup was getting more battle experience than he was. It was not that he wanted to continue these damn tourneys, he was a Baratheon for gods sake, and he wanted to fight and win glory the way his brother had, and yet he was held back by his damnable goodfather, Mace Tyrell was determined that when they did finally march to war, he would have a grandchild on the way. Renly did not mind his queen, but she was not Loras, and beside he already knew something about her. It was a deeply frustrating thing, and something he brought up with Loras. Looking at his lover, sprawled on the bed, he says. “Your father is a damned pain you do know that don’t you? We should have marched toward either the Riverlands or to King’s Landing by now, and yet he continues to delay. It is almost as if he does not want to fight.”

Loras looks at him somewhat offended. “He is only taking the precautions he deems necessary my love. You know what he is like. This is war, this is not a game, despite what all these other idiots outside might think, we must be careful.”

Renly groans in frustration. “Careful? I will not win my damned throne if I am always careful. My brother won his war by charging full on at the enemy, I am stuck here whilst everyone else wins glory for themselves, and yet there is nothing more I can do. What am I, if not a mere boy pretending to be king, without victories behind me? Stark is winning more glory for himself day by day, and I am stuck here.”

His love sits up then and says. “Stark is nothing but a savage. He is nothing without those damned southern men of his. You think he would be anything of a force without the Blackfish helping him? No, he would be nothing. Push the boy from your mind my love. There are other things that could be focussed on. Margaery remains without child, and you can be sure that my father will make no move from here until she is heavy with one.”

Renly looks at his love, horrified. “Do you honestly want Margaery to be heavy with my child? Gods alone know that she does not. I do not think I can do such a thing to her, to you, to us. It is one thing to be married to her, but to actually sleep with her? By the Gods Loras, I do not think I could do such a thing.”

“Even if it meant securing your throne?” his love asks him through his doe eyes. “Your throne is important Renly, we can secure our feelings at any time, but this throne, this is the only time you might win the thing that is yours by right. Do not waste a chance to ensure that it is always yours. Margaery has always known of our preferences, she does not mind, but she wants to be queen, do not take that away from her. Please my love.”

Renly looks at his love and feels something tighten within him, he has never been able to say no to Loras, not about anything, the fact that he wears a crown and has gathered an army is proof enough of that. Sighing he asks. “You would not take offence if I were to do my duty then my love?”

Loras shakes his head. “Of course not my love, you are my king and my love. I know you would not mean anything by it. You need an heir to prevent men such as Tarly from speaking out against you. There is nothing more to it. After all, you are always a big proponent of doing what must needs be done, do not hesitate now my love. Otherwise the vultures will come circling.”

Renly sighs, and moves towards his love, placing his hands on his love’s shoulders he whispers. “What word has there been from Willas? Will the Starry Father support us?”

His love is silent a moment before he finally says. “I do not know my love. Willas has been against this whole campaign from the beginning, I do not know what he has done and what he has not done. The Starry Father is someone who is very strong in his own beliefs, there are things he will not change, and I fear this is one of those.”

Renly looks at his love. “Then should we not move on Oldtown and make the fat fool do as we bid. Oldtown swore fealty to me when I was crowned, Ser Garth’s presence here proves that. The Hightowers speak for all when they speak. The man must follow his liege.”

His love looks uncomfortable at this. “We cannot do that Renly. Oldtown is a strong fortress, and doing anything that might look to be an attempt to gain sway my grandfather or my uncle would be looked down upon. There are more games at play in Oldtown than there are in King’s Landing.”

Renly snorts at this. “Oh I have no doubt of that my love, but it is one thing to seek the approval of the Starry Father, and another to have to do everything by his law. I am a King, not a damn peasant, I dictate my own fate, not that man. If he does not give his approval then I will turn to other means.”

Loras looks at him in shock. “You cannot mean to turn to them my love?” when he is silent Loras goes on. “Renly, the Green Men stand against everything we stand for. The Faith would revolt against you if they learned you had gone to join the Green men in their stance. Why would you do that?”

Renly sighs. “Harrenhal is nearly completely rebuilt my love, it is a strong a place as any to move toward. The Green Men are taking care of it for now for Stark, it would make sense to go there and to tempt them with an offer. Stark would need to heed it as well especially considering the pact he has made with the Green Men. I am a king of all faiths, not just one, that must be made clear.”

Loras looks askance. “Then what of your brother and his red whore? Would you accept them back into your peace?”

At mention of his brother, Renly grimaces then. “Stannis, Stannis is another matter entirely.”

“How? How is your brother another matter? You know what he is like, he will damned well move against you the second you move out from here. He is a fool who commands nothing but ignorance and disrepute. That red woman of his will try to bring us all down to the depths of the seven hells. Why did you not kill him when you had the chance?” his love snarls.

Renly looks at him then and realises just how much of a child his lover truly is. “Because he is my brother, and despite the many other things I am, I am not a kinslayer. Stannis might have lost himself to darkness, but I will not leave my niece without a father, I am not Robert.”

Loras huffs then. “So you are willing to play the noble knight for a girl who is nothing to you, and yet you are not willing to sire a child to continue your own line? How gallant of you my love.”

Renly tightens his grip on Loras’ shoulders and growls. “My niece is not for discussion Loras. Leave it be.”

“Then what is for discussion? Stannis? Or the green boy who is fighting the war whilst you want to ride off and do something stupid without any hope of succeeding?” Loras snarls.

Finding his anger getting the better of him, Renly pushes the knight of flowers down onto the bed, and straddling him growls. “The green boy is doing what I must be doing. He is fighting a war and winning it. Tywin Lannister is cowering like a boy in King’s Landing whilst is home burns. We must make our move and soon.”

Loras is panting below him his voice is somewhat strained when he asks. “What do you suggest then my love?”

Renly grins down at his lover and whispers. “Well, we know Lady Catelyn is coming to treat with us, it is time we began trying to court more support. That is one thing that I shall do, and if your father will not move from his damned arse then I might well use what I know to my advantage.”

Loras’ breathing is becoming more and more laborious as Renly begins moving this way and that. “You would do that, truly?”

Renly bends down and kisses his love, before moving up again. Grinning he says. “Oh most definitely. I am a king and I must use all I can to my advantage.”

“And if Margaery does not become heavy with your child before we move out to King’s Landing?” Loras asks, straining to kiss him.

Renly moves further back and grins at the pout on his lover’s face. “Then I shall make use of the secret Margaery has told me. And I will make sure that someone worth wile sits the throne should I fall.”

Loras looks at him askance. “You would truly give power to that savage? You would make him one of the most powerful men in the realm because of that one mistake my sister made? Why?”

Renly bends down and whispers in his lover’s ear. “Because he is the only man fighting this war the way it must be fought. The Lannisters must be taught a lesson, and should I fall, he is the one who will show them what it means to fight the primal beasts of the forest. He is the one they shall cower in fear off when his name is spoken.”

“And what of my father and my sister? What of them?” Loras asks breathily.

Renly looks at his lover then and says. “Margaery is to go to him should I fall and your father and his men are to go to him as well. There is nothing doubtful about it, this is my will, and I shall make it so should the time ever comes.”

Loras looks at him and whispers. “You would make the Grey Prince a very powerful man Your Grace. Is it truly worth it.”

“The Grey Prince already is a very powerful man my love. I am merely ensuring that all the work I have done is not wasted. Now enough talk.” Renly says, and with that he moves and begins kissing Loras, kissing him for all he is worth, for he knows that come the morning, their fragility will be gone, and he will need to be a king once more.

.


	2. Chapter 1: Winterfell

**3 rd Month of 298 A.C. Winterfell**

**Robb Stark**

The royal party had been here for nearly a month, and in that time Robb had come to some revelations that were deeply troubling. The king was a fat man who was not going to be around for much longer, anyone with a brain could see the way the Queen and the crown prince looked at their king with contempt. His father’s friend was not the great man from the tales Robb and his siblings had heard, he was a man on his last legs, broken and disjointed. As for the crown prince, well, the boy was an idiot that much was clear, he was all bluster there was no substance to him. Robb dreaded the day when he would come to the throne, and he sensed that it would be sooner rather than later.

There had been a pall hanging over Winterfell ever since his brother Bran had fallen. That was what had angered Robb and kept him up at night, trying to figure out what had happened to his brother. Bran did not fall, he had never fallen and though the Broken tower was somewhat less sturdy than other places within Winterfell, it was not so unsteady that a boy such as Bran, who spent most his life climbing would fall. The only piece of respite from the darkness that had engulfed them since his fall had been the Lady Margaery, the daughter of the Lord of Highgarden had been a gem, Princess Myrcella’s lady in waiting, she had shared in jests and japes with Robb and his brothers, as well as providing some time for Sansa, and for that Robb was grateful.

Of course there was one issue Robb was determined to sort out before the royal party left. His fool of a brother was determined to go to the Watch, and that was something Robb would not allow. His brother’s place was here in Winterfell, not on some gods damned wall. And he intended to say as much, Jon was stood in his room looking at him with haunted eyes, an expression he had seen too often here since Bran’s fall. Clearing his throat, Robb says. “You are not going to wall brother.”

His brother stops for a moment. “And what makes you say that brother?”

“Because there is no real reason for you to go there. The wall is not a place for one of Stark blood. I mean think about it, uncle Benjen is no longer around, and that’s because of the damned wall. Why do you want to go there?” Robb demands.

“Because I can make a name for myself there. No one will judge me for my name, only on what I do and say will they judge me.” His brother replies.

Robb snorts then. “If you truly believe that, you are a fool brother. The wall is not the glorious institution we were led to believe. Uncle Benjen himself showed us that. It is filled with liars, thieves and cheats. If you truly think they will not judge you for who you are and where you come from, then you need to get your head out of your arse.”

His brother looks somewhat offended then. “You do not know that Robb. For all we know, they could have been restored since last we saw Uncle Benjen. It does not need to be such a thing as to hold me back. You know I will never rise high remaining here in Winterfell. There is too much history here.”

Robb feels the frustration grow. “That is a load of shit and you know it Jon. The only reason you want to go to the wall, is because you are nothing more than a scared little boy. What is it you are so afraid of? My mother? Please, my mother will not have a say in how Winterfell is run, she is too busy mourning over Bran. She will not know one end of her hand from another, you will stay here and you will rise high.”

He can see the look of temptation on his brother’s face and he knows he is nearly there. Jon sighs then. “How can you guarantee that Robb? You might be the Stark in Winterfell, but you are not of age. Neither of us are. Your mother or maester Luwin will do most of the ruling whilst father is away, there is no two ways about it.”

The anger and frustration he has felt for nearly a whole moon comes boiling to the surface then. “For the love of the gods’ brother, stop this ceaseless moaning. You are a Stark, and your place is here by my side. Not on the wall, and not anywhere else. Your place is here. You know it is here, I know it is here. Why deny something that we all know to be the truth?”

“What of your mother Robb? She will not want me here.” His brother says.

Robb knows his brother is slipping away from his decision though, for there is a look in his eye that shows he is very nearly won over. “Come now Jon, you know my mother. She will not gainsay me when the time comes. You are going to stay here, and you will serve as my right hand, as you always have. None will dare question me when father goes.”

He can see the look of pure hope on his brother’s face, and he knows that though he should feel happy, all he feels is smugness. His brother’s voice is soft and filled with hope when he asks. “Even Theon?”

Robb snorts. “Jon, if Theon even makes some sort of comment, we both know what will happen to him.”

His brother looks relieved then, and there is a long silence that follows this. Eventually his brother breaks out into a grin and says. “Then it seems I shall remain here.”

Robb looks at his brother and grins. Before moving to embrace him. “Thank you brother,” he says. “You won’t regret it, I promise you.”

They pull back from one another grinning. “Well, now I am going to have to unpack everything aren’t I.” his brother jests.

Robb smiles. “You were going to do that anyway weren’t you?”

His brother laughs. “Aye, I was. The wall, gods what was I thinking?”

“You weren’t.” Robb replies. He pauses a moment and then says. “Well I shall leave you to your unpacking.”

His brother grins then. “You have some things to attend do you brother?”

Robb hits his brother playfully then and says. “Aye, something like that.” With that he turns around and walks out of his brother’s room. His thoughts are abuzz, something akin to smugness is running through him now, having convinced Jon to remain here in Winterfell, and there is nothing he now cannot do. Perhaps the Lady Margaery might be willing to give him her favour for the time to come. Robb knocks on the door and upon hearing her calling him to enter, Robb smiles when he sees Lady Margaery with Greywind lying at her feet. “My lady,” he says bowing low. “You are well?”

He looks up and feels his breath catch slightly at the sight of her. She truly is beautiful. The rose of Highgarden smiles sweetly. “Oh very much so, now that you are here my lord Robb. Tell me to what do I owe this visit?”

Robb grins and says. “Can I not come to visit a friend before she departs for the capital?”

Margaery grins as well. “Oh but you can my lord, but one might wonder why you are choosing to come now and not before. The hour is growing late, and the time of the royal party’s departure grows nearer.”

Robb feels his grin falter slightly, but not too much to make such a thing obvious that would not be good after all. “Alas, I know of that. But I merely wished to come and say thank you for being such good company during the visit here. I know that Winterfell can be a hard place for new visitors. But I know that it can be quite accommodating for those who wish it.”

Margaery blushes slightly then. “You are too kind my lord. It has been a pleasure coming and staying here in Winterfell, the oldest castle in Westeros. And you have been a very gracious host. I know things have not been easy as of late, but it is a credit to you and your parents that you have handled yourself so well.”

“You do me the honour for that my lady.” Robb begins. “You have been a great help to me during these dark times. Our conversations have been of great help to me, and have taken my mind off of the worries that have often plagued me since my brother fell.”

By the grin threatening Lady Margaery’s face, he knows he has been successful in some sense. “It was nothing my lord. It was merely common courtesy. You have been a good friend to me as well my lord.”

A silence falls over them then for a moment, and Robb knows that the moment is slipping away, to prevent it, he speaks. “My lady, if you do not think it too bold, when you are away from here, if you wish it, could we keep up a correspondence?”

The Lady Margaery blushes something sweet then and replies. “Of course my lord, I would be most happy with that. It would certainly give me something to do on the journey back to King’s Landing and in King’s Landing itself my lord.”

Robb smiles then. “That is good my lady, and I thank you for this.” he pauses a moment, uncertain of how to proceed, and then he asks. “And if I might ask a small favour my lady?”

“Of course my lord, anything.” She replies.

“You know what Prince Joffrey is like, my sister is young and somewhat foolhardy, and she does not see the beast beneath the veneer. If you could help keep an eye on her, and ensure she does not get into too much trouble, I would be greatly appreciative of that.” Robb says genuinely.

“Of course my lord. For you I would do this. Lady Sansa is a sweet girl, and reminds me of the girl I once was. I will ensure she does not fall too deeply under the prince’s spell. There are some things that a girl need not see, and that is one of those things.” Margaery says.

Robb smiles and says. “Thank you for this my lady. I know it is a lot I ask of you, but I would not ask anyone else.”

“Of course my lord. We are friends, and what are friends for if not to look out for one another. I know Princess Myrcella will help as well, she has a good heart, but sometimes does not always use it for the right reasons.” The Lady Margaery says.

Robb smiles. “Thank you my lady.” He pauses a moment and then says. “So, now that we have that done, is there anything more you wish to see before you leave for the south?”

There is a moment’s silence as they both look at one another, and Robb can feel his heart begin to flutter, eventually, the Lady Margaery replies, her voice soft. “Well, you did say you would show me the godswood my lord. It would be a shame not too see the one place where you feel most at home would it not?”

Robb smiles, and extends his arm. “Of course my lady. Shall we?”

She takes his arm and says. “Lead the way my lord.”

With that they walk from her room and make their way toward the godswood, Robb knows that his plan is coming into motion, soon enough all the pieces shall be in play, it is only a matter of ensuring they do not fall before their time comes. 


	3. Chapter 2: The Road To Trouble

**3 rd Month of 298 A.C. Castle Darry**

**Lady Margaery Tyrell**

She knew something would happen, the Queen and her son had been plotting something since the moment they had left the north, Margaery had seen it in their eyes and their actions, had seen how they had swarmed toward Sansa and had tried to turn her away from her family. Margaery, remembering what she had promised Robb had done her best to bring Sansa away from the attempts of the Queen and her son. With Princess Myrcella’s aid, she was somewhat successful but there was something nagging at her, she had not known just what it was until today. The crown prince had been going on and on about the incident with the direwolf at the Ruby Ford, something she thought just showed how pathetic he truly was, and yet the Queen had finally pushed for things to happen and so they had.

Lady Arya had gone missing soon after the incident had happened, and Margaery knew that the Starks and their men had come very close to clashing with the Queen and her men that was an event that would not end well, through it all Margaery had kept company with Sansa, ensuring that nothing bad happened to her. That Prince Joffrey was ignoring her now, was a boon, as far as Margaery was concerned, for it meant that he was less likely to try and turn her against her sister. Margaery knew the snake that the crown prince was, and as such she kept a close eye on him and all his activities. And yet there were times when she could not, but Princess Myrcella did, this was where they met to speak, in the princess’s room. The princess was a few years younger than Margaery, but she was smart. Her voice was soft when she speaks. “My mother wants Sansa’s direwolf killed. Gods above know why she is so determined for this to happen.”

“I think it is because she has never liked the Starks, and this is the perfect way to perhaps cause something to come between the king and his hand.” Margaery says.

Her princess looks at her a moment and then says. “That does sound like my mother. She is not the brightest when it comes to those she does not like. This is only going to make things worse for all of us. Poor Sansa, she still thinks that Joffrey hates her doesn’t she?”

Margaery nods. “No matter how many times I tell her that he does not hate her, but that this silence is for the best, she merely says that I do not understand. I do not think she truly understands just how lucky she is.”

The princess sighs. “Of course not. Her mother and father no doubt told her just how good it was that she had been chosen as Joffrey’s betrothed. The poor girl knows nothing of what my brother is truly like, and I fear she will not hear a word against him. This must end and soon, otherwise my mother will never let her live this down.”

“Loras told me that they have not been able to find the other Stark girl. Arya. Lord Stark is going mad with worry, I think this is what Joffrey truly wanted. Him or your mother, princess.” Margaery replies.

Had she been anyone else, she knows Myrcella would have chastised her, but because they have known one another for so long she does not. Instead she merely hums. “I think that there is something else going on here. Ever since Jon Arryn died, mother has been acting strangely. When we were told we were to be going north, she started acting up even more. I do not know what it is, but there is something odd going on with her, and I fear Sansa might well get pulled into all of it.”

Margaery considers this a moment and then says. “This might all be something to do with Jon Arryn’s death Cella. Gods alone know something odd has been happening almost every day since the old hand died.”

The princess nods and then says. “We have to act and quickly, otherwise something bad will most definitely happen.”

Before Margaery can respond, there is a knock on the door. The princess calls for whoever it is to come in and they find themselves looking at Myrcella’s sworn sword, and a knight of the Kingsguard Ser Arys Oakheart. His white cloak billowing behind him. “I am sorry for the disturbance my princess, my lady, but they have found Lady Arya, and the Queen has asked that you come to give your account of what happened.”

Margaery looks at the princess and sees the same look of apprehension on her face that is no doubt on hers. They both know the Queen will expect them to give the same account to whatever bile Joffrey has given, and they both know that they cannot in good faith do so. Standing they walk arm in arm to the main hall, where they find the King, the Queen, Prince Joffrey, and almost everyone else. There in the middle is Sansa, looking afraid, her father and sister standing behind her. they both stop and bow before the king, and then look up waiting to see what he says. The king is not the towering figure of his youth, he is fat and old now, but there is still a presence about him. His voice is like a thunder clap when he speaks. “Sweetling,” he says addressing Myrcella. “You were there when this business at the Ford happened were you not?”

“I was Your Grace.” Myrcella says.

The king nods and then says. “As were you, were you not Lady Margaery?”

Margaery nods keeping her eyes low. “I was Your Grace.”

The king nods. “Very well, tell me what you saw happen. Hide nothing, for it is a crime to lie to your king, and I am tired of being lied to.”

Princess Myrcella speaks then. “I and Lady Margaery were taking a walk through the woods accompanied by Ser Arys, when we heard shouting and screaming. We arrived to find Prince Joffrey threatening Lady Arya and her friend, the butcher’s boy Mycah. It seemed that Joffrey wanted to do something to the butcher’s boy, and when the Lady Arya spoke up for the boy, Joffrey came toward her, his sword raised.”

“Lies.” Margaery hears the crown prince say.

Myrcella goes on regardless. “When Joffrey came toward her, Lady Arya’s direwolf came at him in defence. The direwolf was protecting her master, as she rightfully should, considering Joffrey’s intentions were not noble.”

The king looks haggard. “That is the second time I have heard this same account, and yet your brother tells a different one. Tell me Myrcella, why would your brother do that?”

Margaery looks at her friend then, but her friend is resolute when she says. “Because Joffrey is a liar. Someone who takes more pleasure in causing pain than in accepting his faults.”

There is a gasp then. “Liar.” The crown prince.

The king merely nods and then turns to her, and Margaery feels her heart begin to quicken. “Lady Margaery do you have anything more to add to this?”

Margaery feels the eyes of the court on her, taking a deep breath she says. “I do have one thing to add Your Grace. I truly believe that Prince Joffrey was taking Lady Sansa for a walk through the woods for malicious purposes.”

Another gasp runs through the room then, and she can see Sansa’s hand on her mouth. The king looks at her seriously. “These are quite the accusations to make. What makes you believe this my lady?”

Margaery takes a moment and then she says. “He was walking the woods with Lady Sansa unaccompanied. There was a malicious intent in his eyes when I and the princess saw him nearing Lady Arya. And I am sure Ser Arys can confirm this. There was nothing innocent about the way he was acting.”

“A filthy lie!” she hears the queen say.

“Silence.” The king barks. “Go on my lady.” He says looking at her.

Margaery can feel her nerves growing as she continues. “Prince Joffrey has been doing things throughout this journey that have made me wonder about his intentions Your Grace. I do not know whether it is just myself or whether it is true. But I do not think this is the right thing to do. Lady Arya and her direwolf were innocent of all crimes committed.”

“How convenient for you then. We all know of your infatuation with the Stark boy Lady Margaery, this is no doubt a ploy to get favour with the Starks.” The queen says.

Margaery looks at the woman then and says. “Is it wrong for a woman to try and ensure that the truth is represented fairly? I am merely saying what I saw happen nothing more. That is the reason as to why we are all here is it not?”

The queen falls silent, though Margaery does not miss the look of absolute loathing on her face. The king looks at her then for a long time, and Margaery wonders if he is trying to look within her soul. Eventually after what seems an age the king speaks. “Very well. After listening to the evidence provided, I find that what happened was my son’s own fault.”

A shocked murmuring passes through the room. The queen snarls. “You cannot be serious. That wolf savaged your son and heir. This will scar him for life!”

“Then he will grow from them. He came onto the girl, there is nothing more to this matter woman.” The king barks.

“What of the wolf then? Will you allow such a thing to remain alive and breathing?” the queen asks.

“We could not find the wolf my queen.” One of the red cloaks says.

“There is another wolf.” The queen says.

Margaery steps forward then. “Your Grace, killing Lady Sansa’s wolf would be nothing short of murder. Lady Sansa’s wolf did nothing, and so should not suffer for the crimes of the prince. Surely you can see that?”

“It is an animal, not a person. It is a savage animal at that, there will be more danger keeping it alive.” the queen says, her voice a deathly whisper.

Margaery looks at the queen and then she looks at Sansa, whose eyes are beginning to water. Taking a deep breath Margaery says. “You know that is not true Your Grace. Surely you have seen how closely tied together Lady Sansa is to her wolf? She is to be your gooddaughter, why would you want her to be unhappy? Rest assured, this will not be good should something bad happen.”

The queen’s eyes narrow, and Margaery knows she is coming close to crossing the line. “Are you threatening me?” the queen snarls.

Before Margaery can respond, the king speaks. “No she is speaking sense.” The king is looking at her intently, and then his gaze shifts to his friend the hand of the King, Robb’s father Lord Stark. The king’s voice is soft when he says. “The wolf remains alive. Lady Margaery speaks sense, I will not see my future gooddaughter brought unhappiness, because of the foolishness of my son. Now that is that, let us end this damned thing.” The king stands up and walks out of the room to a host of murmuring as various nobles discuss what has just happened.

Margaery stands there with Myrcella, and when Sansa comes and envelops her in a hug she smiles. “Thank you Margaery, truly thank you.” Sansa says, her eyes watery.

Margaery smiles. “It was nothing Sansa, I was merely doing what was right. There has been too much suffering as of late, it was time there was something good to come of this journey.”

Before Sansa can respond, a voice whispers something behind her, making Margaery turn round, the queen stands there looming over them. “This is not over Tyrell. Sooner or later you will fall, and then there will be nothing left for you.” With that the queen pushes past her, leaving Margaery to think on that, something will need to be done about the queen, and soon.


	4. Chapter 3: The Boy Who Flies

**4 th Month of 298 A.C. Winterfell**

**Bran Stark**

The crow was everywhere, it was in his dreams, it was in his head, it was in the sky. It was there when he slept, and it was there when he was awake. It terrified him, and intrigued him at the same time. It spoke of things that worried him to no end, tales of betrayal and of flayed men, of lions dancing with wolves, all sorts of things that did not make sense to Bran. It spoke of a woman on a bloody bed, whilst steel clashed around her. Curses and threats were being issued, and yet whenever Bran brought this up to mother or to Robb or even Maester Luwin they did not believe him and that worried him. Was he going mad? He could not remember much of what had happened during his fall but he could remember his dreams well enough and that terrified him. He did not want to be mad, and broken. So very broken, and yet the crow said he could walk he just needed to try.

His legs were useless now, he could not move and yet they pained, he could feel the things twitching and shaking and yet, Maester Luwin was insistent that he could not walk. That he would never be able to walk. He did not know whom to believe, though the pains in his legs made him want to believe the crow, the crow who told him the lies Luwin was speaking, the lies he was spreading. Bran looks at the maester now and he wonders how he has never seen it before. There is something strange about the man, and he does not know what it is, and it terrifies him. “Maester Luwin.” He calls out. The maester turns round and looks at him curiously. “Where are you from?”

The maester looks surprised at the question but replies all the same. “Originally I came from the north itself, but then I moved to the south when I was young, and then to Oldtown.”

“Why did you move south Maester?” Bran asks.

“Because I felt there was more opportunity there than in the north. My parents could not afford to keep me around with ten other mouths to feed.” Luwin replies, a strange note in his voice.

“Did you enjoy the south Maester?” Bran asks.

The maester is silent a moment and then he replies. “It was an interesting experience. A very interesting experience, I learned a lot about myself and the other cultures of the seven kingdoms. Why do you ask Brandon? Do you wish to travel south?”

Bran nods. “Yes, most definitely. There is nothing for me to do here in the north, not with Robb and Jon so strong and healthy. I am merely a nuisance here. I would rather go to the citadel then be a burden here.”

Before the maester can speak he hears his mother’s voice sharp. “You are not a burden Bran. Do not ever say that or think that.”

Bran looks at his mother and he feels so much anger and shame swell inside him at her dishevelled appearance. “But I am! I cannot walk, I cannot do anything for myself without someone assisting me. I am no help to anyone. I would be better off somewhere else.”

“You know that it is not true Bran sweetling. Why would you say something like this?” his mother asks.

“Because I see the way my condition is affecting you all. I cannot do anything without one of you to help me. Even Rickon is able to do things properly and he is but a babe. What sort of a man would I be like this?” Bran asks.

His mother bites her lip. “You are still strong sweetling, and you are smart. You do not need to be able to use your legs to be able to do those things. A man’s worth is not in how good he is with a sword, but how good he is with his brain. And you my sweetling are amongst the best, even better than Robb.”

He looks at his mother doubtfully. “I do not think so mother. Robb is so very smart, and I am just a boy. How can I ever hope to be like him or better than him? I am useless, even father knows that, that’s why he left me behind when he said he would not!”

His mother comes to him then and Bran is ashamed to find that tears are running down his face. His mother pulls him to her and whispers. “Your father did not want to leave you behind, but you were asleep, and the king was impatient. You know what the king is like, he is an impatient man, and already your father had angered him.”

“I wanted to wake up mother!” Bran says fiercely. “I wanted to wake up but I could not. Something was stopping me from waking up.” At this he sees Maester Luwin’s face do something odd then, but then he changes back to a neutral expression. “Why did father say he would take me south, why did he promise if he would only break it for that fat man?”

He looks up to see his mother’s eyes burning with anger then. “Your father desperately wanted to take you south Bran, you must know that sweetling. But you fell, and the king did not want to wait for you to wake. The world is a strange place my sweetling, and sometimes we have to accept that.”

Those words are like daggers in his heart. “I did not fall mother! You know I never fall!” he protests.

“Then what happened Bran? What happened, were you pushed?” his mother asks.

The image of a blond haired man saying something before he goes flying comes through his mind, and he seizes up then. His breath comes out in harsh gasps. “I….I…I… do not remember mother.”

His mother looks as if she does not believe him, and yet she does not press him. “There is something else that we have come to speak to you about Bran, sweetling.”

“What?” Bran asks looking at them worry clouding his eyes.

His mother looks down at him reassuringly. “Maester Luwin has found something that might be of some help for you.”

Bran feels something like hope flit through him. The maester smiles encouragingly. “I have been doing some reading into why you are feeling pain in your legs. And I think I might have the answer.” The man pauses a moment and Bran wants to scream at him to continue. The man does eventually continue. “It would seem that when you fell, because of the angle at which you fell, some of the feeling in your legs did not go, and as such that feeling which allows us to feel pain is still there in your legs, as well as in your back.”

Bran looks at the maester nonplussed. “How is this supposed to make me happy?” he pulls back from his mother then. “You are only telling me something I already know. How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

His mother squeezes his hand. “Let Maester Luwin finish Bran.”

Bran looks between his mother and Maester Luwin, before sighing. “Sorry Maester.”

“That is quite alright Brandon,” the maester says. He pauses and then goes on. “Now as I was saying, with this knowledge, I have done some further research and have found examples of people who suffered from an accident similar to yours. Their condition was similar as well. These people it seemed through some effort and hard work were able to use their legs properly as they used them before their accidents.” Bran feels something like hope flit through him then.

“Does that mean I might actually be able to walk again?” he asks turning to his mother.

His mother looks at him encouragingly. “I think so sweetling, truly I think so.”

Bran looks at his mother and then at the maester, the maester nods. “I believe there is enough evidence to suggest that perhaps you might be able to walk once more Brandon. It will take time and a lot of practice, but you should be able to do it, if you believe enough and are willing to try.”

Bran looks at the man a long time trying to decide if he is lying to him. He remembers what the crow said about the man, and yet looking at the man and then at his mother, he knows, he just knows that perhaps there is a chance this might be true. Turning to his mother he says in a small voice. “I want to try mother.”

His mother squeezes his hand then. “I know sweetling I know.”

“Can I try?” he asks hopefully.

His mother nods. “If you think this is something you wish then I will not stop you sweetling.”

Bran hugs his mother then. “Thank you mother, thank you.” He feels as if his world is forming again, the darkness is slowly leaving, but it is going. He can hear the voice of the crow warning him, saying that this is too good to be true, but he pays it no mind. He wants to try, he wants to feel alive again, and he wants to feel whole again. Turning to the maester he asks. “When can we begin?”

“Today if you wish.” The maester replies.

Bran nods his head. “Please, there is nothing I would wish for more.”

The maester nods. “Very well then.”

His mother stands up and says. “I shall let you two, get to it.”

Bran takes hold of her hand. “I love you mother.”

“I love you too sweetling.” His mother replies before she turns and walks out of the room.

Bran watches his mother walk out of the room and then he turns to the maester and asks. “What do I need to do?”

The maester takes a deep breath before replying. “You need to trust me Brandon. Can you do that?”

Bran nods. “Yes Maester Luwin.”

“Good,” the maester replies. “Now we shall remove the covers, and try this from the beginning. I will move closer to you, and I want to you lean on me for support.”

Bran does as told, and the maester helps him move the covers from his legs, and though he hates the sight of his legs, he swallows and then puts his hand on the maester’s shoulder. Using all the strength in his body he forces himself to rise and turn, he nearly screams from the pain, but he grits his teeth and manages to force himself up. Following the maester’s lead, he lowers his feet down onto the cold floor, and raises himself up. The pain is excruciating, and he feels as though he is sinking, something happens and before he knows it the maester is holding him up. “You have to focus Brandon, this is not going to be easy. Try again.” the man says.

Bran moves back onto the bed, his legs hurting, and his pride aching. He thinks of his mother, and the look of hope on her face when they learned he might be able to walk again, and he decides no matter how hard it hurts, he will do this. He will walk again, for her, he will make her pride. Gritting his teeth he forces himself up again, taking the maester’s shoulder, this time his feet do not even touch the floor before he is lying back on the bed his legs hurting more than the fires of the seven hells. “Again.” the maester barks, and so gritting his teeth and trying not to cry at the pain, Bran forces himself up again. He thinks of all the things he wants to do, and all the things he does not want to be. The voice of the crow is there biting and chirping, but he pushes it away. He raises himself up off the bed, and when his feet touch the floor this time he does not fall down, and he forces himself to remain standing. He lets go of the maester’s shoulder, and though he shakes for a moment. He remains standing. He turns to the maester grinning, before calling out. “Mother!” when his mother comes in he feels himself flush with pride at the happiness on her face. 


	5. Chapter 4: Grey Wolf

**5 th Month of 298 A.C. Winterfell**

**Robb Stark**

It was a strange feeling, being the Stark in Winterfell. For many years he had known that one day this day would come, his father and mother had always told him that one day this would happen, that his father would leave for the south and might never come back. Robb had been preparing for it his whole life and now that the time was finally here, he was nervous. By the old gods was he nervous, he knew he had the skill, his mother had seen to that, and yet it was one thing to know in theory, and another to do it in practice. So far Robb felt he was doing okay, there had been no major issues, and with Bran walking once more things were beginning to look much better for him and the family, yet Robb knew that bad times could come just as well.

There were many things within Winterfell that needed sorting out though, and with mother preoccupied with Bran, it fell to Robb and to Jon to speak with Maester Luwin and to Ser Rodrik to sort out these issues. He felt a certain sense of pride at being trusted to deal with such matters, and he knew his brother did as well. Rubbing a hand through his hair he looks at the maester and speaks. “The accounts from the royal visit suggest that we will need to begin raising taxes for a small period of time. Whilst the situation is not dire, it is not good to have our coffers so low.”

The maester nods in agreement. “Of course my lord, a wise move, and one I am sure the more southern lords of the north will approve. The question is where do you wish to get these extra funds from?”

Robb considers this for a moment, mulling through the options. “White Harbour and the eastern coast benefitted the most from the trading contracts that the King gave out to father. They will have sufficient funds to be able to cover the cost of these new higher taxes. I do not want them raised too high though, perhaps only enough to ensure the coffers are filled up before father asks for a report.”

“And when would that be my lord?” Luwin asks.

Robb looks at the maester, a feeling that perhaps there is something off about him fills his mind briefly before he dismisses it. “In around a moon’s time. It is not long I know, but it is better than having no time at all. As the biggest kingdom in the realm, we must shoulder a burden that is heavier than the others. It is time our lords realised that. But it is also time the king rewarded us for it.”

“As he has done with those contracts he gave father.” Jon says then.

“Indeed, there will be money coming from those contracts, but there is another way as well to raise the amount in the coffers.” Robb says looking through the accounts for the past year. Taking a deep breath he looks at them all and says. “The Skaagosi have many materials of use that can be used for payment, how willing would they be to part with them?”

“Highly unlikely, that your lord father managed to get that unicorn horn the last time they were asked for their due, there was much protesting. It has been many years since they rebelled and yet still they chafe under Winterfell’s hold.” Ser Rodrik replies.

Something like irritation fills Robb at the thought of someone opposing his family. That is not how it should be, and the Skaagosi themselves should be more than grateful that they have an island to call their own. “Well send the letter regardless, they know where their food is served and who provides them with shelter when winter comes. If they have any sense they will pay the tax and be done with it. We can then look into filling our coffers more significantly.”

“Very well my lord.” The maester says making a note of that.

A thought that has been nagging at Robb for some time enters his mind then. “Has there been any word about those figures in the Broken Tower maester? I know that Barth said he saw someone there when the royal party was here, but he does not know who. Is there anyone with a more definitive recollection?”

The maester shakes his head. “Unfortunately not my lord. It seems that all eyes were more attuned to the royal party and then master Brandon when he fell. No one thought to look at the tower for any sign of life. Though that hair that your mother found has been causing me some concern.”

Robb looks intently at the maester then and asks. “Why is that maester?”

The man hesitates a moment and then reluctantly speaks. “Because the hair is blond of colour, and though your lady mother did not know the colour, at the time I did not think much of it because she was distressed. Yet the more I think about it, the more I wonder. There were only a few people with blond hair in Winterfell when the royal party was here.”

The maester pauses and Robb takes up the conversation. “The Queen, her two brothers, her children and her cousin. And yet what reason would they have potentially pushing Bran out of the tower. You are sure that Bran thinks he was pushed?”

“Bran would not lie.” Jon says.

“He fell a great distance and was not with the waking for many days, I would not blame him if his memory was not the best.” Robb replies.

“He is positive of it my lord.” Luwin replies. “Every time I speak with him, he gives the same answer, he remembers seeing a person and then hearing a voice, and someone with blond hair pushing him and then him falling.”

“What reason would the Lannisters have for pushing Bran? He is but a boy.” Jon exclaims.

“A boy who might have seen something he should not have. A boy who can speak of what he saw even if he did not understand it.” Robb muses.

“What are you suggesting Robb?” Jon asks. “That Bran saw the Lannisters plotting some sort of crime?”

“I do not know,” Robb admits. “But it would make sense. Considering everything we know. Something is not right, and it is beginning to annoy me.”

“You cannot seriously believe that the Lannisters had something to do with Bran’s fall?” Jon asks. “That would be foolish on their part, and they are not foolish.”

“Foolish no,” Robb concedes. “Callous yes. They think themselves cleverer than everyone else. We know from Aunt Lysa’s letter that the Lannisters most definitely had something to do with Jon Arryn’s death. There must be some reason why the Queen was acting so hostile towards us when she was here, some reason other than mere dislike.”

“You think she was trying to stop Bran from over hearing something that she was plotting? But then why not merely scare him into remaining quiet?” Jon asks.

“She is a Lannister, they do not know the meaning of quiet. Her father butchered an innocent woman and her children during the Sack. It would not surprise me if murder was on her mind if it was her Bran saw in the tower.” Robb responds.

“I am not sure my lord,” the maester says. “This feels like too much of a stretch. The queen would have no reason to suspect anything, and if she did, she would not be so great a fool as to plot anything within enemy territory.”

Robb looks at the maester and remembering something his father once said, he replies. “That would be the perfect time to plot something. When the enemy believes you weak and vulnerable, plotting something to undermine them when you have access to their secrets and weaknesses is the best way to weaken them. The Queen’s father is a known schemer, I would not be surprised if she is as well.” He pauses a moment and then goes on. “Furthermore, the Kingslayer and the Queen were missing for a good while during the hunt, the Kingslayer did not come on the hunt, nor was he one of the people there to help with Bran. Where could they have been for all that time, and what were they doing?”

There is a long silence after this and then Jon speaks. “But what could they be plotting? Why would they be plotting? Surely if they are responsible for Jon Arryn’s death they would keep clear of doing anything stupid whilst here?”

Robb pauses for a moment and then says. “Because they would believe themselves unbeatable. Who would suspect them of doing something here, when they are in enemy lands? It is the perfect time to do something.”

He looks at his brother then, and he can see that they have had the same thought. “If that is the case, then they would come back for more should the job not be done. We let father know Bran had woken up…that means the King knows, and the Queen knows…” his brother trails off then.

His heart hammering Robb turns to Ser Rodrik and says. “Ser Rodrik, take ten of your best men and go to my brother’s room right now. Do not let anyone in unless my mother says so. Do you understand?”

The old knight looks surprised but nods. “Yes my lord.” With that the knight turns around and walks puffing out of the room.

Maester Luwin speaks then. “My lords, do you not think that you are rushing into something without due process?”

Robb stops then, his hand on his sword belt. “I do not think so. The lions have shown that they are willing to draw their claws. I will not allow them to come into my house again and to create chaos.”

“You would risk antagonizing the most powerful family in the realm on something of a rumour?” the maester asks.

“I would do what I need to, to secure my family and my kingdom. Nothing is more important.” Robb replies, before he walks past the maester and with Greywind, Jon and Ghost following walks out of the room. His heart hammering Robb walks down the hallway, “We cannot allow this to go on.”

“Of course not, father would want us to stop it before it went any further.” Jon replies.

They walk in silence after that, Robb’s heart is hammering within his chest, Greywind it seems senses his master’s nerves for he is moving forward and backward with alarming frequency. Eventually they walk out of the hallway to father’s solar and arrive into the grounds, the cold air, makes Robb settle somewhat, yet there is still some nervousness, he is not sure what he will find, but he has to make sure that everything is in order. He quickens his pace and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Ser Rodrik and the guards outside his brother’s room. He stops in front of the knight and asks. “All well?”

“Yes my lord. Your brother and mother are safe and sound. There has been no sign of suspicious activity within or without.” The knight replies.

Robb nods and then knocks on the door. “Mother?” he calls out. “It is me, can I come in?” he hears his mother call out in the affirmative and then nods at Jon and the other men and opens the door and walks in.

Bran is walking up and down the room trying out his legs once more, and mother is smiling. “Robb, what is it?” his mother asks, as she looks at him, her smiling falling. “Why are there guards outside your brother’s room?”

“Because I believe the Lannisters might try something else. Something to prevent Bran from remembering more about his fall.” Robb responds.

“I’ve said all there is to say!” his brother protests.

Robb ignores his brother and then asks his mother. “Do you know when the Kingslayer and the Queen came to help you with Bran mother?”

A pained look crosses his mother’s face then at the memory and then she says. “They did not, not until people were already there and were helping me.”

“And what did they look like?” Robb asks.

“Dishevelled I think. Why?” his mother asks.

Robb looks at his mother and then says. “I think I know who is responsible for Bran’s fall.”


	6. Chapter 5: Hand Of The King

**5 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

He was frustrated, so very frustrated. He despised King’s Landing, it was place filled with sin and avarice, there were very few honest people within this damned city, and Ned often found himself wondering how Robert could survive within it, and then he looked at his friend and he knew just how Robert did it. That was a very depressing thought, his friend who had once been so filled with life, was now dead inside. Ned could see it within his eyes, the solemnness the grimness that haunted him, it was a sad thing. Not for the first time Ned cursed Lyanna for running off with that oaf Rhaegar, for allowing herself to be wooed by his lies. He runs a hand through his hair and then brings his attention back to the council meeting.

A rare thing, to have Robert attend a council meeting, and yet for the first time, his friend seemed to be alert, not drunk and certainly not willing to let anything go. His friend looked at him intently for a moment and then says. “I thank you all for coming. I know this is an odd sight, hells I don’t even know what I am doing here, but I do know that there are some things that a King must attend to, and this meeting is one of them. I would know the state of my realm.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Ned speaks. “Well Your Grace, since you are here we might as well bring up the amount of debt that the throne owes various lenders. Lord Baelish?”

At this he can see Robert slouch somewhat, and yet his friend remains alert. Baelish, the little worm speaks then. “Thank you my lord hand. The Iron Bank has once again been at my door asking when the crown will repay its debt to them. I have tried all I know to get them to relent, but we must do something Your Grace, otherwise they will make us default.”

There is a small glimmer in Robert’s eyes when he asks. “Are they threatening war?”

Baelish looks stunned at this, and Ned knows the man is either hiding his true thoughts or is genuinely surprised. “I do not think so Your Grace. It would not be in their interest to do so. And yet the crown’s debt to them increases with the amount of interest being paid.”

Ned looks at his friend and king and sees Robert thinking, a strange sight he must admit, but one he finds heartening. “How much do we owe the damned Braavosi?”

“Some five hundred thousand dragons Your Grace.” Baelish responds.

Robert looks stunned at that. “Are you certain?”

“I am Your Grace, five hundred thousand dragons is the amount owed to the Iron Bank.” Baelish responds.

“And how the devil did it become so much? Are you not counting your coppers properly Baelish?” Robert asks.

A strange look passes over the master of coin’s face then, but he merely replies. “I am Your Grace, but when the king demands money it is my duty to find it from somewhere.”

“Then do your job and find the money to pay off this damned debt.” Robert growls.

Ned speaks then. “Surely we should consider other means of clearing the debt than merely scrounging for coin Your Grace?”

“Are you saying that Baelish cannot do his job properly Ned?” Robert asks amused.

 _Yes._ “No Your Grace. I am merely saying that perhaps the time has come for us to look for other ways of getting coin that looking around as if we are beggars. The realm cannot afford such a thing.” he responds.

“What of damned goodfather then?” Robert asks. “Has he said anything?”

Baelish looks down at his books and then says. “No Your Grace. Lord Tywin has not spoken about the debt the crown owes him. He merely waits I think.”

“Good, that is as it should be. If he is so damned desperate for me to remember him, then perhaps he should consider paying off these damned debts himself. He did it for that whoreson Aerys, and we are family.” Robert says.

Ned feels horrified at that. “Your Grace cannot be speaking truly? Tywin Lannister would ask something serious for such a thing.”

His friend merely laughs. “Aye, of course he will, he’ll bloody well ask for his son and heir back, and if it means Braavos is satisfied I might well give that to him.”

Ned feels some anger coil inside of him at that. “Ser Jaime is a knight of the Kingsguard, and the Kingsguard serve for life, Your Grace.”

“They serve at their king’s volition, and I am the king. Besides, I thought you would be happy to see the blond haired shit gone?” Robert responds.

“Only if he went to the wall Your Grace.” Ned says.

“Oh for the love of the gods Ned, not this again!” Robert sighs. “The man did us all a favour when he killed the mad king. Surely you would not deny that?”

“It was not his place to kill the mad king. He was a man who had sworn himself to the man as knight of the Kingsguard, he broke his oaths that day.” Ned replies.

“And we had both sworn oaths of fealty to Aerys at Harrenhal Ned. We damned well broke them when we rebelled.” Robert booms.

“We had just caused. The man had asked for our heads.” Ned says. “The Kingslayer had no right to do what he did. If there is any place he should be going it is to the wall. I know Lord Stannis agrees with me.”

“Yet the fool is not here.” Robert says gruffly. “Where the buggering hells is my brother?”

“Dragonstone Your Grace,” the king’s younger brother Renly responds. “It seems he decided to leave for there after you went to Winterfell.”

“No doubt angered I didn’t name him hand,” Robert guffaws. “Honestly, for a man who claims to be above such things, sometimes he can be so very petty. I trust you sent him a raven asking him to come back Ned?”

“I have sent him many ravens Your Grace,” Ned responds. “None of them have received a response. It is almost as if Lord Stannis is deliberately shutting himself off.”

He sees his friend’s eyes narrow at that. There is a deep anger in his voice when he speaks. “The fool, the absolute fool. Well send him one more raven Ned, affix my seal to it as well, and tell him that if he does not come back to King’s Landing he will lose his position as master of ships. And his lordship might well be under scrutiny as well.”

There is a long silence after this and then Ned asks. “Is that not a bit much Your Grace?”

“No. He has refused a direct order from the hand of the king on multiple occasions. If he does not reply this time, he has committed treason knowingly, and it is time that he learned that lesson.” Robert responds fire in his eyes and his voice.

“A wise decision Your Grace, and perhaps it will teach Stannis to act as he wishes to be treated.” Renly says.

Ned senses a deeper undercurrent of tensions there, and some hidden meaning amongst the two Baratheon brothers, and he wonders at it, but before he can speak of it, his friend speaks once more. “I heard about your boy Ned, and how he is walking once more. Well done, I knew it would not be long.”

 _Aye, I am sure you are Robert, and yet do you know just who might have pushed him?_ Ned had his own suspicions on that matter, but merely smiles and says. “Thank you Your Grace.”

Robert satisfied with that merely nods and then says. “There is one other thing that I wished to speak of. As I am sure you know, Lady Whent managed to save some of her family’s fortune at the end of the rebellion, mainly because of old Lord Hoster, and as such has spent a fair bit of time rebuilding the castle of Harrenhal to make it more liveable. Lady Whent is ailing and as such has no heirs of her own body. Pycelle if you could.”

The old grand maester, who Ned is convinced is in Lannister pay speaks then. “Having done some research on the king’s behest, I have found that the closest living relative to Lady Whent is her niece by her cousin Lady Minisa, your wife Lord Stark is Lady Whent’s heir and as such so are your children.”

“And?” Ned asks. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Lady Whent is dying Ned. She has been for a long while, and as such she wrote to me asking for me to name an heir for her. And as such I have chosen to name your son Robb as her heir.” Robert replies grinning.

Ned is stunned by this. “Your Grace… I do not know what to say.”

“You can say thank you and accept.” Robert responds, the grin still on his face.

“Robb is also heir to Winterfell Your Grace. Would this not cause trouble?” Ned asks.

“Pah, I am the king I can decide who gets what. He has the best claim, and therefore he is her heir. When Lady Whent dies, he will be confirmed as Lord of Harrenhal and retain his position as heir to Winterfell. There shall be a tourney there to celebrate it and to confirm it. It is your task to prepare all of this.” Robert replies, standing up and putting his hand on Ned’s shoulder before he walks out of the council chamber.

Standing, Ned watches his friend leave the room and he wonders at this. He cannot help but feel there is something more behind his friend’s actions. Whether or not King’s Landing has made him justifiably more suspicious or not he does not know. But he does know that there is something else going on here, and he must find out what it is, otherwise he fears something bad might well happen. And after what happened at Winterfell, he cannot allow that.


	7. Chapter 6: New Lords

**5 th Month of 298 A.C. Winterfell**

**Robb Stark**

Winterfell was quiet, very, very quiet, there was not much more that could be said about it. Ever since he had put two and two together, Robb had been wanting to go to the capital and bring forth his thoughts to the court and to his father. And yet his mother had argued against that, citing the need to remain careful and cautious before doing anything too rash. Though considering what her own reaction had been when he had spoken of his thoughts, Robb thought she was being far too generous to herself. It was that thought that had led to him calling another meeting. He looked at the people gathered in his father’s solar and began to speak. “The hair that was found in the broken tower, it was blond was it not mother?”

“It was.” his mother responds.

“And there were only six people at Winterfell with blond hair when the royal family was here. Two of them were missing when everything with Bran was happening. Why does it not make sense that they might have been there?” Robb enquires.

“It does make sense Robb, but you have to wonder why they were there. What were they doing there and how did a hair fall onto the ground in the tower?” his mother responds.

Robb looks at his mother, his face stern. “Bran has said he remembers some of what happened when he feel. He says that he saw to people wrestling in the tower before one of them pushed him. For the love of the gods mother, that must be proof that something was going on.”

His mother looks at him in shock. “Do you truly believe that your brother could fully understand what he was seeing if indeed he saw what we think he saw? He is only a little boy.”

“A little boy who knows how the direwolves came into being, mother.” Robb replies sternly. “We must not discount what he is saying simply because you are not able to accept he might know what sex is.”

His mother looks at him aghast, he would laugh at her expression if the topic were not so serious. Maester Luwin speaks then. “Lord Robb is correct my lady. We cannot discount Brandon’s recollections, just because it does not behove us to know he knows about sex. He is a growing boy, and will soon come to know of such things regardless. The best thing to do would to collect more evidence until such a time as our case is insurmountable.”

“And what would you suggest that be then maester?” Robb’s mother asks. “We cannot very well send to King’s Landing asking them to speak of what they were doing. Not only would that be foolish, it would also be dangerous. What then, are we to do?”

Robb is silent a moment and then he speaks. “We speak to Bran again, and see if there are any more details he can remember about the day he fell. And we speak to other members of the household to see if they know of anything odd that might have come from the royal family’s time in Winterfell.” he pauses a moment and then turns to Luwin. “You said that the dwarf is coming here did you not maester?” the man nods and Robb goes on. “We question him then as well.”

“That is sheer madness Robb.” his mother protests. “Speaking to Tyrion Lannister would only alert him that something is amiss.”

Robb looks at his mother then and says. “His suspicion would only be raised if we directly confronted him with the problems before us. I am not father, nor am I such a fool as to think to question a man such as Tyrion Lannister directly about his family. No, there are weaknesses to the man and I mean to find them.”

His mother looks at him in question. “How do you intend on doing that?”

Robb looks at his mother and then looks at Jon who had been silent during most of the exchange. “Jon here shall become friends with the imp. One thing I noticed when the man was here in Winterfell was that he was drawn to those who he thought were like him in some sense or the other. What was it he said to you Jon?”

His brother looks surprised and then says. “He told me to never forget what I was, for the world would never forget it. And the more I remembered that, the stronger I would become.”

Ignoring the look of loathing on his mother’s face, Robb merely says. “And there you have it mother. Tyrion Lannister has a soft spot for those he believes to be like himself. We shall use that, Jon shall become friends with him, and talk to him about whatever he wishes. Make him comfortable and then when the time comes, we shall find out all that is necessary.”

“And if he does not say all to Jon? What will you do then?” his mother asks.

“Oh he will say it all to Jon, if not directly then in a manner that will bring out what we need to know one way or another. He is a Lannister mother, and as I am sure you know, there is nothing those Lannisters like more than to talk about themselves and their damned family. One way or another the imp shall give us what we want.” Robb says. “Furthermore, as a guest here, he will be obliged to engage in conversation and will no doubt wonder about Bran, that Bran is walking again will most definitely be of interest to him.”

“You want to use your brother as a tool? What is this Robb?” his mother asks shocked.

“I am using my brother to protect us all. The Lannisters are dangerous mother, they are very dangerous. We cannot allow them to get away with something like this. Regardless of what they were doing, we must get to the bottom of it and end them.” Robb responds.

“And if what you want to do puts the lives of your father and sisters at stake?” his mother asks.

“It will not. If all goes according to plan they will be fine and out of King’s Landing when the hammer comes.” Robb says.

His mother looks at him for a long time, and eventually says. “Very well, but I do not want Bran or Rickon anywhere near the Lannister dwarf when he is here. No longer than is necessary at any case.”

Robb nods. “They will not need to be. Now what news has come from King’s Landing?”

The maester is silent a moment as he shuffles through the various letters and then he speaks. “A raven has come from King’s Landing affixed with the king’s seal my lord. It seems that it is of grave importance.” the maester hands him the letter and Robb reads it, and as he does so, he feels a sense of wonder.

“What is it Robb?” his mother asks.

Robb puts the letter down and looks at his mother. “It seems the king has seen fit to name me as Lady Whent’s heir. I am now heir to Harrenhal and shall inherit all its land and wealth when she dies.”

His mother gasps then. “Is that for truth?”

“It is.” Robb responds.

“But is Edmure, not the heir?” his mother asks.

“It would seem that the king has taken this decision himself.” Robb responds.

There is a moment’s silence and then Maester Luwin speaks. “This will create problems later on my lord. I do not think there has ever truly been a situation where the heir to one Lord Paramountship has been made heir to another great castle. Something might have to give here.”

“No doubt the Lannisters will complain about this. And even I am not sure what to make of it. What could have prompted this?” his mother asks.

Robb considers this a moment and then responds. “Perhaps the king realised just what needed to be done to prevent father from leaving? After all, we all know that father did not wish to leave after Bran fell, now this might be the king’s way of making things right. But as it seems is often the case, the king merely creates more headaches instead of lessening them.”

“What will you do?” his mother asks.

Robb looks at his mother and merely replies. “I shall accept this honour, and when the time is right, use it to my advantage.”


	8. Chapter 7: Dreams

**5 th Month of 298 A.C. Winterfell**

**Bran Stark**

_The wind howled, and a woman cried, and somewhere a wolf howled. It was the same dream as always, he felt trapped, as if he could neither talk nor walk, something was preventing him from doing these things and he did not know what it was. He was not even sure he enjoyed this, he wanted to scream, and yet he continued as he always did. Brandon Stark, blinked and called out. “Hello? Is there anybody out there? Just shout if you can hear me.” His voice echoes around the forest, for that is what this place is, it has to be. There is no other explanation for it. Once the echo dies down there is silence once more, and a chill begins to creep over him._

_He stands there, rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to think properly, and still the wind howls and a chill runs through him. Bran shivers, and that is when the voice comes a rasp. “Brandon Stark, I have been expecting you.” Bran stares ahead and sees a three eyed raven looking at him, its mouth open.  “You are late now, I am disappointed Brandon, son of Eddard, son of Rickard. I expected better from you.”  Bran looks at the raven unable to speak, his tongue tied. The raven looks at him intently and then continues. “You are just like your great grandfather you know. Getting into things you should not. I thought the fall would have taught you that.”_

_Finally he finds his voice and asks. “Who are you? And how do you know who I am?”_

_The raven caws, and for a moment Bran is not sure what is happening and then he realises that the raven is laughing. “I have watched over you since the day of your birth Brandon Stark, and I did the same for your brothers and sisters, and your father and his brothers and sisters, and your grandfather, and your great grandfather, and so on. I have watched your family for a very long time.”_

_“But why? Why do you care about us?” Bran asks._

_The raven tilts its head and says. “Because you are the last of the old guardians, and this world is failing. War and corruption are wreaking havoc upon us like a bitter plague, and now the time is coming for death to play its final card.”_

_“What do you mean?” he asks._

_The raven merely caws again and then as it begins to fade, Bran hears it say. “You must not forget who you are Brandon Stark, never forget, winged wolf.”_

_“Wait!” Bran calls out after the bird. “What do you mean?”_

_“Oh do ignore him. He does like talking a lot of nonsense.” a voice replies, Bran turns around and nearly recoils in horror. A man with charred skin is there standing before him, his armour burnt._

_“Who are you?” Bran asks._

_The man looks affronted for a moment before replying. “I am your grandfather boy. And I expect you want to know why you are here.” Bran nods his head, and his grandfather sighs. “I made many mistakes when I was alive, too many to name now. But I always tried to do what I thought was right. My daughter and eldest son disagreed it seems. The truth of the matter is, my son Eddard is doomed.”_

_“Why?” Bran asks._

_“He is playing with lions, and Tywin Lannister never plays nicely. Otherwise, I would never have died.” his grandfather says, before disappearing as well._

_“Wait, why are you going?!” Bran exclaims._

_The only answer he gets is silence, and then a growling noise comes into his hearing, a deep sound, threatening and painful. Bran shakes with fear, and sees a man walking toward him. A man with dark auburn hair, and a fierce scowl on his face. “So you are the weakling, the fool they entrusted with this are they?”_

_“Who are you?” Bran asks, his voice filled with fear._

_The figure merely laughs. “Pitiful,  that is what YOU are, Brandon Stark. You are not fit to sit in the winter throne. None of you are, apart from me, and well, I am dead now aren’t I. I died because of you.”_

_“How? What did I do to you?” Bran asks, literally shaking._

_“You allowed them to kill me. You allowed death to come for me instead of face it yourself, like a good brother should. You are a coward.” the man growls._

_Bran looks at the man and then asks. “Why would I do that?”_

_“Because of what the three eyed raven said.” the man growls. “Because of what Bloodraven said.” before Bran can respond there is a whistle and then the wolf comes charging at him._

Just as he thinks the wolf is going to rip him apart, he shoots awake. He gasps for breath, and puts a hand to his forehead and feels the sweat trickling down, he sees his mother and maester Luwin looking at him, their faces filled with concern. “Are you alright Bran?” his mother asks.

Bran looks at his mother and then at the maester and asks. “What happened? What time is it?”

“It is still late my sweetling,” his mother says soothingly. “You were crying out.”

Bran sighs and gratefully accepts the cup from his mother. “Why were you up till now mother?”

His mother looks at him a moment and then responds. “I was speaking with your brother. It seems a raven has come from King’s Landing.”

Bran feels something within him tighten then. “Saying what?”

“Your father wishes to know if you would like to come to King’s Landing. He wants to know whether or not you wish to squire for a member of the Kingsguard.” his mother responds.

Bran feels a flash of hope and then something else entirely, he feels concerned and worried. “I….I…”

“What is the matter Bran?” his mother asks.

“I… I do not want to go south.” he whispers.

“Then you do not have to go south if you do not want to.” his mother says.

“Father would not be disappointed with me?” Bran asks.

“Bran, your father and I only want what is best for you. If you do not want to go, then sweetling you do not have to go.” his mother says soothingly.

Bran nods and rests back against the pillow, he can feel sleep beginning to claim him, but before it does he asks. “Mother, is Rickon okay?”

“Rickon?” his mother asks. “Why yes he is, he is sleeping in my room. Why do you ask?”

Bran shakes his head giving his mother a small smile. “No reason mother, I merely wanted to make sure.”

His mother smiles. “Do you need anything else sweetling?”

Bran shakes his head, and his mother nods then, she kisses him on his forehead and walks out of the room, leaving Bran alone with maester Luwin. He looks at the man and asks. “Maester, do you know anything of three eyed ravens?”

A strange look passes over the man’s face then, and something within Bran screams that the next words to come from his mouth will be a lie. Yet his voice is soft when he replies. “I do not my lord. Why?”

Bran shakes his head then. “No reason.” he pauses a moment unsure of whether to ask this next question, deciding he has nothing to lose he asks. “What do you know of someone called Bloodraven?”

There is a long silence then, and as Bran looks at the man, he wonders at the look on his face, a mixture of fear and anger. He is surprised therefore, when the man replies calmly. “I know much about the man known as Bloodraven. What would you like to know?”

Bran considers for a moment and then he asks. “He came north did he not? He came north when my grandfather was alive, why did he come north?”

“To serve as a member of the Night’s Watch, for breaking the guest right. Why do you ask Master Brandon?” the maester responds.

Bran is silent a moment and then he asks. “How long ago did he die?”

“Many years ago Master Brandon, and now I think it is time you rest.” the maester replies before hurrying out of the room, leaving Bran to wonder at the quickness of his response and his desire to leave. In his mind he sees the three eyed raven taunting him, and a boy flying and falling.


	9. Chapter 8: Harrenhal

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Robb Stark**

_It’s huge._ That is the thought that crosses Robb’s mind as he looks up at the towers surrounding him. Harrenhal, the seat of his grandmother’s family, and now his, entirely his. Lady Whent had died at the end of the last moon and word had been sent out by her bastard nephew to Robb, and so he had come south. His mother, and his brothers Jon and Rickon had come south with him, Bran staying behind to be the Stark in Winterfell. And now as he looked at his surroundings he felt a true sense of awe. Harrenhal was a formidable place, and though not all of the five towers were completely rebuilt, three of them were. The Tower of Dread, the Widow’s Tower- where it was said that Danelle Lothston had wept when her husband had died, and kingspyre tower, where Robb had set up as Lord were all rebuilt, though the Wailing Tower and the Tower of Ghosts were not completely rebuilt. It was a fascinating thing, watching all the activity.  Various owners of Harrenhal had contributed to its rebuilding over the centuries, none more so than the Iron Throne, and at one time, Harrenhal had been the seat of a prince. Robb was truly proud to be Lord of such a seat.

Of course he knew there were grumblings he was not such a fool as to think there would not be, but looking around he knew he did not truly care. Not as much as he might of, had it been Winterfell, after all being lord of this place, made him one of the richest lords within Westeros, and that, that was not something to scoff at. He looks at his father and says. “Well, what do you make of my castle, father?”

His father smiles slightly, a rare sight and merely says. “It is a very impressive thing Robb. Though it will be a heavy burden to maintain, you will not be able to remain here and be at Winterfell. There are already lords who are complaining to the king about this. You will have to choose soon enough.”

Robb looks at his father and says. “Men will always complain when they are not given that which their rivals are given. It is in their nature, as I am sure you have learnt from your time in King’s Landing father. Still, I do see where you are coming from. The one thing I would say is that, to ease the pressure, perhaps removing the Lord Paramountship from Riverrun might do wonders for relations here.”

His father, ever the traditionalist, looks worried at such a suggestion. “I do not think that is such a good thought son. The Tullys have ruled the Riverlands as Lord Paramounts since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, changing things now, without a valid reason, I do not think would be wise. It would only create more tension where there need be none.”

“No offense meant to grandfather, or to uncle Edmure, but the Tullys have never truly had control over the Riverlands. It is far too fractious a region for one such as their house to truly command. It would make more sense for a former monarchical family to rule as Lord Paramounts. Our family has the prestige and the standing to do such a thing.” Robb says.

“And would you spend your time more here, or in Winterfell?” His father asks. “Do not forget you are heir to Winterfell as well. Where you decide to spend your time will affect people’s perceptions of you.”

Robb snorts then. “The people here merely think me a savage. They think us all savages father, and that is something you are not doing anything to improve. Your charging through King’s Landing has reached us even back in Winterfell. It does us no good, especially with what we now know from Bran. The Lannisters will not take this lightly.”

“I am trying to prevent something dangerous happening to our family Robb. The path that you would suggest is a dangerous one. Even now, I am not so sure that this is a good idea. You are young yet, what would you do with such a big castle as this? By rights Edmure should be the lord, not you.” his father says.

Robb looks at his father and says. “You have met uncle Edmure, father? He is not the brightest of men. He struggled to understand us when he met us for the welcoming feast. Surely such a man is more of a liability, than an advantage.”

“He is your uncle Robb.” his father says sternly. “It would not do to speak to him as such.”

Robb looks at his father and says. “Very well, but then what do you intend to do about the Lannisters? Bran is in Winterfell, but his word would be believed, after all there is the strand of hair that mother found, there is the fact that neither the Kingslayer, nor Queen Cersei where present when Bran fell, yet suddenly appeared last of all those who came to aid mother. What more do you need?”

“I need some solid proof, Robb.” his father says sounding frustrated. “I do not know what you all expect me to do. I cannot charge the Queen or her brother, with anything until I have solid proof.”

Robb looks at his father, well and truly looks at his father then, and realises something. “You are hesitating father. You might try and deny it, but you are. There is something else you are looking into, which is making you not want to press these charges, in case they jeopardise whatever it is you are doing.”

His father is silent a moment and then responds. “I am doing the king’s business that is all. And until I have more proof of all of this,” his father waves his hands around. “I do not know what I can do about it.”

Robb looks at his father and says. “Well as Lord of Harrenhal I could remain here and try and get some information for you. There are plenty of people who would be eager to speak with me I am sure.”

His father looks discomfited at the suggestion. “I would rather you leave for Winterfell, when this is all done. I must speak to Robert.” With that, his father turns and walks off, leaving Robb alone, angry, and somewhat frustrated. His father is far too narrow minded to see what benefits this castle and its lands bring, he only sees the disadvantages.

Shaking his head, Robb walks off, determined to see if he can find Jon.  As he walks, his mind wanders, and he begins thinking about Margaery. He has only seen her when the formality of their station has allowed it, at the welcoming feast, and then at the dance later that evening, but since then, his time has been spent getting to know the castle and its inhabitants, as well as ensuring all runs smoothly for the tourney. That the king came and brought his family, was a welcome boon for Robb, for it meant not only did he get to see his family once more, he got to see her. And even now, just thinking of her makes his heart speed up some.  He stops when he hears voices, he pauses to listen but can only hear giggles and laughter, smiling, he looks to Greywind, his direwolf, and sees that his wolf has his ears perked. “What is it boy?” Robb whispers.

The direwolf ignores him and moves forward, bounding silently toward something, and when Robb hears a small gasp, he looks forward, about to apologise when he sees someone he had not thought to find here. “My lady Margaery. Forgive me for Greywind.”

The lady laughs, and the sound is like music to his ears. He watches as she scratches Greywind behind the ears and as she replies. “Oh there is nothing to forgive my lord, it is quite alright.”

Robb smiles, and feels his heart speed up when he is rewarded with a smile as well. “If I might be so bold, would you like to walk with me my lady?”

As she takes his proffered arm, she replies. “I would love nothing more my lord.”


	10. Chapter 9: The Lady And The Wolf

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lady Margaery Tyrell**

The feeling of walking arm in arm with Robb was a heady one. She had waited for this moment for some time, she knew her father would disapprove if he could see them, but in all honesty, Margaery did not truly care, she was with the one person who she could truly be herself and she liked that. Robb was not like the other boys she had spoken with, he was not an idiot, nor did he try to be something he was not. He was smart, and cunning, and those were two qualities that she found very attractive, but he was also kind. That he was now one of the most powerful lords within Westeros was merely a benefit, she supposed. That he seemed troubled worried her though, and so she asks. “You seem troubled Robb, what is it that is bothering you?”

Robb looks at her a moment and then responds. “My father and I had a disagreement, though I feel he is being terribly short sighted.”

“What was the disagreement on my lord?” she asks. “If you do not mind me asking.”

Robb merely smiles at her a moment and then he responds. “My father believes that the king giving me Harrenhal was a grave mistake, and that I have to decide between either being heir to Winterfell, or being Lord of Harrenhal, I cannot have both.”

Margaery looks at Robb then, and sees the way his brows are creased. “You disagree with him?”

“Of course I do. I think my father is being far too sensitive to the whims of the Lannisters. He claims that he is worried about antagonising the lords of the riverlands, but I believe that is nonsense, he is doing something at court, and he does not want me interfering with it, or disrupting it. The Lannisters had their own damned candidate for the seat.” Robb responds.

“Your father is merely trying to look out for you Robb. As Lord of Harrenhal, you have a grave responsibility, and now are more in tuned with southern politics than you would be as merely heir to Winterfell. Perhaps, your father is trying to spare you that.” Margaery says.

“I know that, but my father does not realise that with this title, I can do more to aid him throughout the realm than I could as his heir. Now I can command men and respect throughout the realm. Already, I have looked through the books, and I know there are various tenants of the Lannisters who owe us money, recall that money and we have an advantage over them.” Robb replies.

“Do you believe that the Lannisters are a danger to the realm?” Margaery asks, she sensed that there was something he was not mentioning to her at Winterfell, and now as well, she has seen how guarded he keeps, and how he looks at the Queen and her brothers with suspicion.

“Yes, without a doubt. You are at court, you know just how many of them there are. You have told me, yourself of how many of them hold the king and the prince’s interest and as such, I believe such a thing is not good for the realm.” Robb replies.

They have stopped walking now and seem to be in the Godswood. Margaery looks at Robb and asks. “And why do you think calling on those tenants might give your family the advantage?”

“From what I have seen, and from speaking with Tyrion, it seems there is nothing more that Tywin Lannister than control. That men of his might well owe us a debt, is something that will grate on his nerves, and the more hold we have over them, the more we can use them. I must make my father see that, whether I am Lord Paramount or not.” her Robb replies.

“You spoke of becoming Lord Paramount with your father?” Margaery asks surprised.

“Yes. My uncle and grandfather have not been able to keep their lords at bay for very long, ever since grandfather retired from public life. I am meeting with some of the lords at the end of this tourney, to discuss things. Harrenhal is bigger and wealthier than Riverrun, it makes sense to make it, the capital of the kingdom. My father worries about insulting my grandfather, but truly, would he not want it run more capably than not at all?” Her lord queries.

Margaery ponders this and then says. “What you say does make some sense Robb, and yet, the Tullys have ruled the riverlands for nearly three hundred years, it would take something quite exceptional for the king to be convinced to remove them from that seat of power. And if word got out that it was you, their own kin, who had pushed for it, well there would be a great many dangers then.”

“What do you suggest I do then?” Robb asks. “Sit and wait, and allow my uncle to blunder from one bad choice to the next?”

Margaery shakes her head. “No, I think you should work with your uncle to bring the Riverlords to heel. You said you were staying here for a time after the tourney? Then use that time, to do just that. Talk with them, get to know them, charm them, and bring them to your uncle’s side, show him that you are not looking to take power from him, but to help him.”

Robb looks at her, and she feels some heat pass through her, by gods he is handsome. “And what of the north. I cannot forget my future bannermen there, I must ensure that they know how is in charge.”

Margaery considers this for a moment and then asks. “Are you willing to give up Winterfell?”

“I am not sure. My whole life, I have known I would be Lord of Winterfell one day, and I do not wish to let my father down. But I know that Harrenhal has more weight here in the south, and can help us achieve what needs to be done.” Robb responds.

“And what is that?” Margaery queries. “You speak of it, but you do not say what it is. Your brother seems to be on friendly terms with Tyrion Lannister, yet I do not know how that could have come about. What is it you are not telling me Robb?”

He cups her cheek then and says. “I wish I could tell you, Margaery. Truly, I wish for nothing more, but right now, I cannot say anything, lest you be caught in this unpleasantness. I know you are no delicate flower, but I would protect if I could. I would not risk you, not when I have waited so long to see you.”

Margaery smiles then. “You have?”

She feels her heart flutter some when Robb nods. “Yes, most definitely. I do not wish to continue speaking of these unpleasant things. Not when the girl before me is so very pleasant.”

Though she feels foolish, Margaery giggles. “Well, when you say it like that, what is a lady to do?”

Robb grins. “Well, you could tell me what you make of the castle?”

“Well it is certainly very grand. Though it is missing a woman’s touch I think.” Margaery says.

“And what makes you say that my lady?” Robb asks.

“Everything seems so very big and broad, and dark. It is almost as if the castle is making up for something that it lacks. And that my lord, is not you.” She responds with a smile.

She sees Robb smile, and when he leans in, she feels his breath, hot on her face. “I have missed you my lady.” She lets loose a soft moan of surprise when he kisses her, but she does not fight back, she eases herself into the kiss and soon is kissing him back, all else forgotten for a time.


	11. Chapter 10: Bastard of Winterfell

****

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Jon Snow**

He had been surprised when Robb had asked him to come south, he had thought being the bastard he’d be left behind. Since father had gone south, something had changed in Robb, he had stopped being the carefree lad he had always been, and instead he had been replaced by a cold and calculating man. Or was it Jon who had changed? He was no longer included within the inner workings of Robb’s plans, he did not know just what Robb hoped to achieve here, and that was something that frustrated him. He had been asked to get to know Tyrion, and he was doing that, but Robb had not even bothered to ask him what he had learned, instead he was spending his time with Margaery Tyrell and with father. Father, another person who seemed to be ignoring him, gods he did not know what to do.

“You look troubled Snow.” the dwarf says, his eyes fixed on Jon.

Jon looks at the dwarf and sighs. “That’s because I am.”

“And why pray tell is that? Your brother is now one of the most powerful lords in the realm, no doubt he will give you a powerful position within his household. There is nothing to despair about. You have much to gain, and little to lose.” the dwarf responds.

Jon sighs once more. “I do not know how true that really is. My brother barely has time for me anymore, and my father, well he seems to be ignoring me like the plague. Gods alone know what will become of me. I am half convinced that Lady Catelyn might well ask me to leave, or insist on it before too long.”

The dwarf looks at him thoughtfully. “And what would you do if she did?”

“I would go to the wall. I was originally considering doing just that, and if such a thing should continue I would go to the wall. There would be no place for me within Winterfell, and I highly doubt Robb would want me to be here in Harrenhal, I would not want to remain here.” Jon says truthfully.

“And why is that? There is much and more to explore within the Riverlands, surely you do not wish to forsake your youth for such a thing as the coldness of the wall. I know your uncle does not wish such a fate for you.” Tyrion replies.

Jon looks at the dwarf interested now. “You spoke to my uncle about me? Why?”

“Your uncle wished for you to know more of life before you made such a serious decision. You are only four and ten are you not Jon?” the dwarf asks, Jon nods. “That is far too young an age to begin making such life changing decisions. You speak of the frustration you feel toward your brother and father, have you tried speaking to them about this?”

Jon looks at the dwarf and says. “I have not. There is no use in doing such a thing. They will only tell me that they have plans for me, and that they will let me know when the time is right. I do not know when that time is, and yet they will say such things. There is no point in asking them anything, they are Starks, and they know how to keep things to themselves.”

“If you have not asked them, then you do not know what they will say.” the dwarf says. “That is the height of foolishness, in simply thinking they will not tell you something. Unless you ask you do not get. Tell me, what makes you so certain that you will not get the answers you want?”

“The fact that my father still has not told me about who my mother is despite the fact that I’ve asked him so many times. If there is something he is hiding, he will never tell me, and I will never know.” Jon says, hating how much like a child he sounds.

The dwarf merely looks at him in contemplative silence before saying. “Well if your father will not tell you that, then you must look into it yourself. What do you know of where you came from?”

Jon thinks for a moment and then says. “I am not sure, I know that when Lady Catelyn arrived in Winterfell, I was already there. Myself and a wetnurse named Wylla, who stayed in Winterfell until I was around four. I know for a time I thought she was my mother, but apparently she always denied that. Other than that, I know little.”

There is a moment’s silence and then the dwarf says. “Wylla eh? Is there not a Wylla Manderly? A granddaughter of Lord Manderly? And was there not a Wylla Fenn who was the mistress of a previous Lord Stark?”

“Yes.” Jon responds nonplussed as to where this is all going.

“Then it would seem Wylla might well be a northern name. It is possible that your mother might be from the north.” Tyrion says.

Jon looks at the man and says. “But that is not possible, otherwise I would be older than Robb, and I have always had my nameday after him.”

“And who was it, who told you when you were born?” the imp asks.

“My father.” Jon responds.

“Then it makes sense that he would say that you were born after Robb, otherwise, he would be more likely to offend his already offended wife and extended family. Lord Stark would have been fighting a war, and considering you were already in Winterfell when Lady Stark arrived, that is the only thing I can think of. Anything else does not make sense.” Tyrion says.

Jon feels as if he has been winded, the mere thought of it all reverberates inside his mind, inside his very being, and he looks at the dwarf and asks. “Why would my father do something like that? How is it possible something like that could happen? He was in the vale for most of his life, he only had the barest amount of time for company before marching south.”

“Well, it takes time for an army to form Jon, I am sure lords would have come with their daughters, trying to woo the new Lord of Winterfell. Men seek to gain favour from their liege lord, and the easiest way to do that is by putting a woman in his bed.” the dwarf replies.

“You are wrong.” Jon snaps, anger growing inside him. “My father is not like that, he would not go against something he believes in and break his word of honour.”

“Your very existence is proof that, that is not true. Admit it Jon, your father broke his word of honour and that is what is troubling you.” the dwarf states.

Jon looks at him and feels a sharp anger grow through him. “You don’t know that, you do not know anything about me.”

“On the contrary Jon, I know that you are desperate to learn who your mother is, and that now you might have a lead, you are terrified to explore it, for fear of what secrets you might find.” the dwarf replies.


	12. Chapter 11: Jousting

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Ser Jaime Lannister**

After standing guard for some time, it was finally time to have the jousting. For a week or more there had been feasting and revelry, and now, now it was time to have the main fun. It had been boring standing guard over his sister and her fat husband, he had hungered for Cersei and yet they had remained apart, too much risk, especially with the Stark boy prowling around looking for something or the other. That the other Stark brat had begun walking once more was something that had eased his guilt somewhat, but not enough. His mind was chaotic now, and the jousting began with the cry from the king. “Start the tourney before I piss myself.”

Jaime’s first opponent is some shit from the riverlands, he does not even bother learning the fool’s name, but he does take his lance and prepares for the competition. He says a quick prayer and then on it goes. He spurs his mount on, keeps his lance steady, and when the boy comes toward him he turns the lance somewhat, hitting the boy straight on the shield. His lance splinters and as they past one another and then Jaime turns round and picks up another lance and turns to face the boy, this time on the second pass he knocks the boy off his horse and makes him land on his arse. Through to the next round, Jaime watches others compete, keeping his interest to a minimum until a man with grey armour enters the lists, a mystery knight. The knight wins his first joust in only one tilt, and the crowd cheers.

Jaime’s next joust is against Renly Baratheon, the ponce who has come forward for some reason or another. Jaime looks at the Lord of Storm’s End in his green armour and laughs. Jaime takes his lance, and then as the announcer calls for the joust to begin, Jaime feels his heart beat quicken, but the Baratheon boy is no match for him, a straight hit sends the man falling down to the ground. But as Jaime turns round, he hears something or the other that sounds dangerously close to an accusation. He thinks about turning around and going after the Lord of Storm’s End, and yet he decides against it, he will keep an eye on him though.

The mystery knight with the grey armour continues to prowl through, his second opponent is Robar Royce, never a ponce with a lance, the Royce knight falls on the third pass, and the crowd cheers and roars. Jaime looks at the mystery knight and wonders at this, he wonders who this man could be. He pushes the knight from his thoughts though as his next competitor comes forward. Ser Lyle Crakehall a big boar of a man, and someone Jaime knows to be a fierce jouster. Jaime takes his lance and clears his thoughts, waits and then spurs his horse onward. He hits Crakehall in the shield once, on the second pass, he hits him in the chest and Crakehall remains, on the third he hits him in the shield once more his lance shatters, on the fourth pass he hits Crakehall just under the neck and the man falls. There is a cheer, and Jaime moves through to the second last round.

The mystery knight’s third joust is against someone Jaime knows well, Ser Barristan Selmy Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He watches fascinated as the two men go against one another. The mystery knight is young, Jaime can tell that by the way he holds himself, there is a cockiness there that Jaime recognises from when he was young. The man’s grip of his lance is tight, and loose at the same time. There is a primitiveness about it that belies something deeper, a determination as it were for the man. The first pass is a test, the second is a brutal play, the third is something else entirely, the fourth is a mess of broken lances and splinters, the fifth sees both men take hits, and the sixth one sees Ser Barristan unhorsed. The crowd roars its approval at this, and Jaime begins to wonder.

Jaime’s possible last joust comes against Sandor Clegane a brute with a sword but not so smooth with a lance. Jaime, takes a breath and then the joust begins. His heart is beating quickly, the first pass sees them miss one another, the second sees them break stride and nearly smash into each other, the third sees their lances hit and break, their fourth sees Sandor Clegane wobble in his saddle and nearly fall, the fifth sees Jaime nearly fall down. The sixth sees Sandor Clegane unhorsed, and Jaime roars with triumph at that, he knows that now the ball is in his court.

The mystery knight goes up against the new and upcoming knight, Ser Loras Tyrell. Jaime knows that Tyrell is only half the jouster Jaime was at his age, but still he watches intrigued as the two men go up against one another. He looks around the stand where the royal family and the Starks are and notes curiously enough that the Lord of Harrenhal is not present, he wonders at that, but then pushes it from his mind. He watches as the two knights compete and as they go from one pass, to another and then to another. On and on their little dance goes, and Jaime can tell that the knight of flowers is growing more and more frustrated, and when he is eventually unseated and the mystery knight who Jaime is now calling the Grey Knight, because of his grey armour, does a lap around the ground, he wonders.

And then it comes time for the two of them to compete with one another. Jaime’s heart is hammering, he knows now that something more is about to happen, this joust has taken on some new significance. He thinks he knows who the mystery knight is, but he is not completely sure, and so he remains silent on the matter for a time. He mounts his horse, takes his lance and then moves toward the opponent. The grey knight holds himself well, no nerves show in his stance or in his posture. They move on the first pass, the second pass sees their lances shatter, the third sees shields hit and more broken lances, the fourth sees them both shaking somewhat. The fifth sees a dancing stag before his eyes, the sixth sees the seven hells come before him and on the seventh, something happens and he is knocked from his horse quite hard. The crowd is roaring chanting the name he thought and he remembers. He looks up through broken vision as the knight takes the laurel and places it atop Lady Margaery’s head, and that is when it clicks. 


	13. Chapter 12: A Feast

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Robb Stark**

He was still on a high from defeating Jaime Lannister, from winning the tourney and from crowning Lady Margaery, it had all gone according to plan. His joust against Ser Barristan was perhaps the best moment of it all for him, having grown up admiring the man, well to defeat him during the jousting was something special, and then of course defeating the Kingslayer, well with what he knew of what had happened in Winterfell, that was something special as well. The decision to wear grey armour for the joust had come from his reading on one of the best Kings of Winter, Theon Stark, a man who had shown the Andals just what was what, and as such it seemed to have given him luck. Since the joust there was now a feast, and time at Harrenhal was coming to a close, decisions would need to be made, and right now Robb was just happy to spend time with Margaery.

“Did you like the crown my lady?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I thought you looked quite Queenly with it.”

Margaery hits his arm playfully. “Oh enough already my lord, you know that I liked it, and I do think there are many here who would want to know who it was that crowned me perhaps you should tell them?”

Robb considers this for a moment and then says. “I know that would be something, just to see the look on Jaime Lannister’s face, but alas I think it must remain a secret for now, unless there is some reason to antagonise the Lannisters more so.”

Margaery sighs somewhat playfully. “If you insist my lord, but I must say you look dashing in grey armour, even more so in a grey doublet. Perhaps we can see to making that a permanent fixture?”

Robb looks at her his eyes filling with heat then. “I would like for nothing more my lady. Would your father consent?”

Margaery looks somewhat uncertain then and responds in a whisper. “I am not sure Robb, my father wants many things, but for now perhaps we can try?”

Before Robb can respond however, Lord Renly sits down next to them both, his face somewhat flushed from drink. “Forgive me for the interruption my lord and my lady. I must say Lord Robb you did something fantastic by defeating Jaime Lannister. The Queen is most angry with her brother, and my brother the king is most happy with this. Tell me how did you manage such a thing?”

Robb masks his surprise and merely responds. “The Kingslayer was leaning too much to his right, he was over confident, and I used that against him. But I suspect that is not the main reason why you have come here my lord, what is it that you want?”

The Lord of Storm’s End looks at him a moment, almost as if he is appraising him, finally he speaks. “You are sharper than your father. I have tried to warn him Lord Robb, and yet he continues to gander blindly down the pathway to his death. The same way Jon Arryn did.”

Robb perks up at this and asks. “Warn him? Warn him of what?”

“His queries as to what Jon Arryn and my brother were doing before Arryn died and Stannis fled like a scared girl have come back to the Queen’s ears. She has begun looking into it as well, and as such has begun hurting some of your father’s men and women. Not openly, but surely your father has spoken to you of how they have gone missing?” Lord Renly responds.

“He mentioned it.” Robb concedes.

“Well the queen is behind it, and she will make a move sooner rather than later if your father does not become smarter about his movements.” Renly responds.

Robb looks at the man then and asks. “What sort of moves would she make? The fact that she has been seeing my father’s helpers off is a bad thing in itself, and breaks about four or five laws under King Maekar’s laws. What could she do to threaten the hand of the king?”

The man looks at him a moment and then says. “It is not what she could do directly, Cersei is not so great a fool as to openly provoke the hand of the king. But, and this is a big but, your father has made enemies within King’s Landing as have you, the people of the council and the court who are within Lannister pockets believe that your family is being unjustly rewarded for doing nothing. They are gathering to undermine the hand, and any who might be of use to him.”

“Then this must be brought to my father’s attention as well as the king’s.” Robb says at once. “Keeping them in the dark about this, is almost as bad as plotting against them.”

The Lord of Storm’s End looks at him and then looks at Margaery as if seeing her for the first time. “Lady Margaery, how would you deal with such a situation as this?”

Under the table, Margaery has taken his hand in hers and is squeezing it now, her voice remains deathly calm though. “I would see what I could find out from those easily used, and then I would place a false trail, let the Lannisters dance to a tune that I have set. Otherwise they will begin to set the dance. Furthermore, I would give them one of my own, but not fully, someone who I could trust fully, but whom the Lannisters in their ignorance might well think has turned against me. That way the information would be more reliable.”

Renly looks at them both and then says. “Spoken as a true granddaughter of the Queen of Thorns. Good. I would recommend this, and furthermore, I would suggest an alliance between you and me, Lord Robb. We are two of the most powerful lords in the realm, an alliance between us would hurt the Lannisters.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Robb asks. “And how do you propose we reach this alliance my lord?”

The Lord of Storm’s End is silent for a long time, and during that time Robb can hear the music picking up speed, he looks around quickly, sees that his father is there speaking with someone from the Riverlands, and that the king has disappeared, and then Lord Renly speaks. “Through a marriage, between a family I hold dear and yourself. A marriage that will add power to us all, and make the Lannisters weak, as weak as can be.”

Robb looks at Margaery and then says. “Go on.”


	14. Chapter 13: Difficult Conversations

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

The second tourney he had ever attended at Harrenhal had gone relatively well. It seemed that Robb had gotten the same trait Brandon had had, he was able to make people, no matter who they were love him. More and more, it seemed that was the case, northmen, and rivermen were falling for his eldest son’s charms, so much so that the fact he was heir to the North did not even seem to be an issue for them. And yet Ned knew that it would be, once he was old and dead, it would be an issue, the Lannisters were going to make it an issue, and even the Tyrells might. Ned was not blind, he knew what his son felt for Margaery Tyrell and he worried at it. Worried what consequences that could bring.

The king it seemed was more than happy with his choice of Robb as Lord of Harrenhal. In fact, Robert seemed in a very jovial mood. “Your son sure does have a way with people Ned. Almost as if he is Brandon come again. And you were worried over how old Lord Hoster would react to this. Damnation, we’ve both spoken to Ser Edmure and Ser Brynden and both men seem more than happy with the decision. I don’t see what your problem is.”

Ned looks at his friend, his face flushed with wine. “I worry that this won’t last. Soon enough the period of grace will end, and then what will happen. Harrenhal has more power than Riverrun, it has more wealth and more men to its banner than Riverrun does. What happens should Robb and Edmure argue, there will be war.”

His friend laughs then. “Pah, you always were too grim for your own good Ned. There won’t be any war. Your son seems as if he has a good head on his shoulders, and I think we have you and Cat to thank for that. Besides, if they argue, so what of it, they are family, family argues. It is how things work.”

Ned swallows then. “I do not know, something about this all seems too easy. The Freys and the Brackens should’ve voiced a complaint and yet they have not.”

His friend snorts. “Frey is too busy fucking some wench who is more akin to his great-granddaughter’s age. And as for Bracken, well they have nothing to complain about. I’ve just about sorted that whole succession issue for them.” Ned looks at his friend shocked. “What? You think I didn’t learn anything from Jon? Please Ned, I feel insulted, I might drink and fuck, but I know when to step in now and then.”

Ned looks at his friend then and says. “My apologies Your Grace. And what have you decided on that issue of succession then?”

“Lord Bracken’s nephew is to be his heir, and will marry his eldest daughter. I think the time has come for that nonsense to end. But that is little here or there. So tell me Ned, when do you think we shall be holding a royal wedding?” Robert asks.

Ned looks at his friend surprised. “Your Grace?”

“When do you think Renly will finally settle on a bride? He might not be a prince, but he is still a royal. I wonder who he will choose. That Tyrell rose, or someone else. I hope to the gods it is not a Lannister, any more of them and I might kill myself.” Robert jests.

Ned looks at his friend and wonders at this, would Renly really marry Margaery, from what he can tell, he seemed to be pushing the Tyrell rose onto Ned’s own son and heir, and as such he wonders. But it would not do to inform Robert of this, not just yet anyway, and so instead he says. “I do not know Your Grace. Perhaps a marriage with someone from the Stormlands? He is Lord of Storm’s End after all.”

Robert guffaws then. “And when has that ever allowed either myself or my brother to do anything? We’ve done more to shirk our duty than we have to enable it and make improvements.”

Ned looks at his friend surprised. “Where is this coming from Robert?”

His friend holds his hands out wide and says. “The kingdom. When we fought the rebellion, I was determined to be a far better king than Aerys ever was, than that shit Rhaegar could ever have been, and yet I did nothing. I allowed Jon and others to take command and I fell into a pit of despair. Lyanna died, and my dream of the future went with her. I have drunk and whored to my heart’s content, and now my kingdom is broken. There are Lannisters everywhere I look, and the only chance of breaking that is to remove Cersei and remove my children from King’s Landing. But I worry about that, I do not know, I do not know how it came to this.”

Ned is surprised by the level of reflection his friend is showing and he asks. “Have you felt like this before Robert?”

His friend looks at him, his eyes red from drink, but his voice is clearer now then it has been before. “Many times, when Jon was alive I used to think about it a lot, and now, well now I do not know. I think I have come to accept that there are certain things that I cannot change, and that I should not consider changing, but I know that Joffrey cannot succeed to the throne. If he does we are all doomed.”

Something about his friend’s words triggers a realisation in Ned, and he knows he will have to bring this up with Robert, sooner rather than later. But right now he asks. “What about Prince Tommen? The boy is young still, surely there can still be a way for him to be improved?”

A moment’s silence and then Robert says. “Well, we can always have your son Brandon come and foster within King’s Landing. The boy can walk now can he not?” Ned nods. “It would do Tommen some good to have companions who are not Lannisters. But even Joffrey can be changed I think. He is not too far gone. Your bastard could come to court as well if you wanted Ned.”

Ned feels slightly uncomfortable about this, the words of a promise said long ago, echoing in his mind. Still his friend looks so despondent and hopeful at the same time that he cannot but help replying. “I shall ask Jon if he wishes to come south Your Grace. And I know Bran would be most happy coming south. I think that might be for the best.”

His friend merely nods and then says. “I will need to look to remove Cersei from here as well. I want you to speak with the High Septon when we return.”

“The High Septon? What about?” Ned asks.

“Dissolving my marriage to the shrew. I have a feeling that she is not all she claims to be. And I do not want her hanging around here when her son is changed.” Robert replies a determination in his voice that Ned has not heard for some time.


	15. Chapter 14: A Secret Place

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lady Margaery Tyrell**

Her heart was thumping, they had left the great hall and moved toward the Godswood, and now they were standing before the heart tree, with a member of the Order of the Green Men standing there before them. She knew what they were doing was hasty, and perhaps ill considered, but she truly did not care right now. She cared for Robb, loved him even, and with Loras and Renly there to help should anything go awry, she knew she did not care. She felt bad that she had kept this from Myrcella, but she knew it had to be done, quickly at least.

She feels Robb squeeze her hand and hears him whisper. “Are you okay Margaery?”

She nods. “I am, I have never felt better Robb.”

He looks at her somewhat sceptically. “We do not have to do this, if you do not want to. I would not force you into something you are not comfortable with.”

Margaery shakes her head. “I am confident that this is what I want. I want to be your wife, and to share your live with you, Robb.”

Robb nods. “Very well then, if you are certain then so am I.” He looks toward the man from the Green Men and says in an authoritative tone. “We are ready to begin.” She feels a momentary pang of loss when Robb lets go of her hand, but she knows she will feel much better soon enough.

The Order of the Green Men are a very secretive order, and one Margaery does not know much about, but she thinks that she will find out more about them soon enough. The masked person before them speaks then, their voice melodic. “We are here tonight, to witness the union of two people. Lord Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell and Lord of Harrenhal, and Lady Margaery Tyrell, daughter of the Lord of Highgarden. Is there any here to who deny them this union?” the question is asked, and silence is the answer. The figure nods. “Very well then, the two of you might state your vows now.”

Margaery looks at Robb, and sees him smile in the moonlight, he speaks first, his voice strong and confident. “I, Robb of the House Stark, heir to Winterfell, and Lord of Harrenhal, do hereby pledge my love and devotion, to you, Lady Margaery of the House Tyrell, from this day to our last together, I will love you, care for you, and share my thoughts with you. I will always endeavour to do my best by you and any children we might have. I pledge my love.”

Margaery smiles at Robb and responds. “I, Margaery of the House Tyrell, daughter of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, do hereby pledge my love and devotion to you Lord Robb of the House of Stark, from this day to our last together. I will love you, care for you, and share my thoughts with you. I will always try to be the best wife to you and mother to any children we might have. I pledge my love.”

“You may remove her cloak.” the man says.

Loras steps forward then and removes the cloak of green and gold, and Robb steps forward and places a cloak of grey on her shoulders. She feels him brush a stray curl and she shivers. There is a moment’s silence and then the green man says. “And now that this is done, you may kiss.”

Margaery looks at her husband for a moment, and then she leans forward, and he leans forward as well, and then their mouths are pressing against one another. She sighs into the kiss, it is perfect, everything she imagined it would be and more. She opens her mouth and allows his tongue in, and she sighs even more at that, and then she kisses him back, and their tongues dance. The kiss deepens, and she feels as if she could lose herself in that moment, it is so perfect. Just as it is about to go further, she hears someone cough, and they break apart.

Margaery looks at her husband, and smiles, her smile widens when he kisses her nose, and then they turn to look at Loras and Lord Renly. Renly speaks then. “Well since this wedding business is now done, I say continue our discussion.”

Her husband takes her hand, slipping their fingers together, and then says. “Very well, what more do you wish to discuss?”

Renly is silent and then he says. “Well first of all, how did you manage to get a member of the Green Men here, they are quite hard to find I believe?”

Her husband merely smiles. “I am a Northman, Lord Renly, I know how to get fellow old god worshippers to do my bidding. But yes, there is one thing I wish to discuss, now that I and Margaery are married, would it not do, to make this marriage official?”

Margaery is surprised when Lord Renly shakes his head. “No, I think doing so right now would only cause more trouble. It has been done without the king’s official approval, and as such, there would be a target on both your backs, and that is something we cannot afford.”

Margaery looks at her brother’s lover and asks. “What do you mean by without the king’s official approval? Have you spoken to King Robert about this?”

Her brother’s lover laughs. “Speak to my brother about something like this? Come now my lady, you are not as stupid as to believe I would speak to my brother about something like this. He would go straight to Cersei, to blather on about it whilst drunk. No, I spoke in a way with him, and he gave his approval.”

“What do you mean?” Robb asks.

Margaery looks at Lord Renly, and then at her brother, and it clicks. “You made him think you were considering marrying me? You deceived the king and got his approval for this unofficially, and therefore have made it so that I and Robb cannot openly speak of this unless we support you?”

Her husband stiffens then and looks at Renly. “So you tricked us into doing this, knowing full well that we could not claim it without putting ourselves at risk? What is so damned important that you would have us in this position?”

Renly looks at them both then, his expression unreadable, but the words he says are nearly treasonous. “I would have you support me as I try to remove the Lannister scourge from court. Once that is done, then and only then can you proclaim your marriage.”

“How would you have us do that?” Robb asks.

“You have resources here as Lord of Harrenhal, I would have you use them, there are elements of court that must be removed.” Renly responds.

Her husband looks slightly confused at this, but Margaery understands. “You would have us force your brother have to remarry, to prevent Stannis come to the throne.”


	16. Chapter 15: A Bastard's Request

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Jon Snow**

It seemed as though things were becoming good again, Robb was speaking to him once more, and seemed to be a lot happier than he had been before, his brother also seemed to be with Margaery Tyrell a lot more than before, and that was something that Jon somewhat on edge, he did not know what to make of the Tyrell girl, but he knew he did not like her brother. As for father, well father continued to avoid him, and that was making him angry, he wanted to know why, and he wanted to know now. Of course, there was no opportunity to speak to the man, for he had his own duties, which mainly involved speaking with Lord Tyrion, something that he was doing now as it were.

“So you are honestly telling me that the Wall seems a more inviting prospect than coming to King’s Landing?” Tyrion asks.

Jon nods. “I do not want to play any sort of game, besides, my father does not want me there, and he has made no mention of it to me. What would I do there, besides be a burden?”

The dwarf looks at him then. “You could come with me and be a member of my household you know. I do need a squire to see to some of my work, and it is always nice to have someone to speak with. The capital can be quite boring without company I have found.”

Jon looks at Tyrion, suspicion present, but also curiosity. “Would you not be returning to Casterly Rock? After all, you are Lord Tywin’s heir. Surely, you would be needed there?”

Jon sees an opening and as such has exploited it, and he sees a moment’s hesitation cross the dwarf’s face before he speaks. “Well, one would think so. Yet my father is not the most pleasant of men to be around, furthermore, he has been set on seeing my brother returned as his heir for some time. He does not wish for me to be there, I believe, and I am content to allow that.”

 _Division within the Lannister family? That is something we could use._ Jon thinks, aloud he merely says. “A shame then, and something that I disagree with Lord Tywin on. So is that why you are returning to the capital? To avoid your father?”

Tyrion laughs a moment. “Partially, but I grew out of being afraid of my father when I was your age I believe. Now I go to King’s Landing because it is far more fun to mess with my sister and to peruse their archives in the library. Trust me, there is some fascinating reading there.”

Jon does not know why, but his interest has been peaked by this and so he asks. “What sort of things are there in the library?”

The dwarf looks at him a moment and then says. “Well, for starters there are all the books on the individual Targaryen kings and their reigns, and books on some of their more obscure members, and then finally there is a book, or rather books on dragons.”

Something about that seems quite appealing to Jon, but before he can respond, Harwin appears in the room and says. “Forgive me Jon, my lord Tyrion, but the lord hand has asked for your presence Jon. In his solar.”

Jon looks at Lord Tyrion and merely says. “Of course, forgive me my lord.”

Tyrion merely nods, and then Jon stands and leaves with Harwin. He wonders what it is his father could be wanting to speak with him about, for a moment he wonders if it will be about his mother, but then he dismisses such a thought. He knocks on the door and enters when told to, he finds his father sat alone, looking at various pieces of parchment, which he puts away when he looks at Jon. “Ah Jon, do sit down.” Jon sits down, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “You must be wondering why I have asked you here, and the reason for that is I mean to ask you something.” his father pauses, and Jon feels a rush of anticipation. “The king has asked if you would like to come south with us to King’s Landing. He wants you to spend some time with Prince Joffrey.”

Jon is somewhat surprised by this, this was not what he was expecting, but he still manages a reply. “Okay…why?”

His father sighs and says. “I think the king wishes for you to get to know the prince, and perhaps help change him. As I am sure you know, the prince seems quite hostile toward almost everyone and too favourable toward his mother, things are about to happen which require that to change.”

Jon looks at his father somewhat confused. “And the king thinks I can help change his son? Why? How? I do not know the boy, nor do I like him overly much. I do not think the boy likes me either, surely for this plan to work, such a thing has to be there?”

His father sighs. “I know Jon, trust me I know, and yet what the king wants he often gets.” his father pauses then. “Unless, you do not wish to go. Robert will not force you to do something you do not wish to do.”

“Like he did not force you to become hand? Even after Bran fell?” Jon asks.

Jon regrets asking that question almost as soon as it has come out of his mouth, but before he can say anything, his father sighs and responds. “Indeed, but that is a choice that I had made. And now I must deal with it. The king wishes for Bran to come south as well, and that must happen. But as for you, well perhaps it would be better if you did not go south.”

His father’s tone confuses him somewhat, for it sounds as if his father is accusing him of something. “What? Why would it be better for me not to go south? If it means protecting Sansa and Arya then I would gladly go south.”

His father sighs. “Because it would be putting you at grave risk Jon. There are those in the capital who would be delighted in you coming south, to use against me, against Robb.”

Jon feels confused at this. “How though? I am a bastard, I am not some sort of prized heir that can be used. I am merely a bastard.”

A strange look crosses his father’s face then. “Yes, and it is because you are a bastard that you cannot go south. Bastards have a habit of being used against their family at court. Daemon Blackfyre is an example of this, as are countless others. I would protect you from that.”

“You mean you would protect yourself from that.” Jon snaps. “Is this because of who my mother was? Is she still alive?”

“Jon, now is not the time.” his father responds.

“Why is it not the time? When will it ever be the time?!” Jon asks. “Who was my mother, father? I do not care if she was some camp follower, just please tell me who she was, is she alive, does she know I exist?”

His father swallows a moment and then he replies. “She knew you existed, and she loved you very much.”

“So she is dead?” Jon asks.

His father does not say anything for a long time, and then he says. “She died a long time ago, in Dorne. Leave the past to what it is Jon, there is no point in looking for ghosts.”

 


	17. Chapter 16: Efforts of a Brother

**6 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Robb Stark**

He was married and yet he could not openly spend time with his wife, he could not acknowledge that he was married to her, nor that he was in love with her. For that he resented Lord Renly, and he was thinking of ways of undermining the man, but at the same time he knew that undermining him would undermine his marriage to Margaery as well, they had spent a night together but nothing more, and it was beginning to put a strain on him. Furthermore, there was the fact that his brother was considering going south, just to spite their father. Robb looks at Jon now, and looks at their two direwolves sat side by side and sighs.

“Why are you so determined to go south Jon? What is there in the south that you could not get here or in Winterfell?” Robb asks.

“Answers.” his brother responds. “Father is hiding something from me, and I truly believe that the only way that I can find out what he is hiding is by going to King’s Landing. Nothing else would make sense.”

“And are you convinced that you will find them there? Maybe father is right in not wanting you to go to King’s Landing. You know what the Lannisters nearly did to Bran, and what they were going to do to mother. Come on Jon, please, you must realise that father is doing this to protect you.” Robb says, hating how pleading his voice sounds.

His brother shakes his head stubbornly. “I do not think so. I think that father, does not want me to go to King’s Landing because he is worried that I will find out the truth. And besides, I thought you would want me to go south. After all, Bran is there, and he will need protecting, father is quite preoccupied right now. Surely me being there would be better than not.”

Robb looks at his brother, and knows that there is some sense to what he says, and yet after all that happened with Lord Renly, Robb is somewhat wary of allowing any of his family near that man, or the Lannisters. Instead he tries a different tactic. “Whilst, I admit that it does make some sense for you to go to look over Bran and the girls, I do not think such a thing would be looked on favourably by father, as it is clear there is some danger within the capital, and I do not know whether allowing so many members of our family to go to the capital is a good idea. There is too much danger around the Lannisters as of now, to make them a useful tool.”

Jon laughs then. “And what of Lord Tyrion? You asked me to get to know him, and to some extent I have. I know for starters that he harbours a lot of resentment toward his father and his sister. I am becoming good friends with him, and perhaps by going to King’s Landing I could further that. We need all the allies we can get.”

Robb considers this then, a plan forming. “Well, that plan might need to be adapted. If what you say is true, then perhaps Lord Tyrion might be of use to us. He is a very knowledgeable man, and there are parts of Harrenhal that I do not know of, I cannot be Lord of Harrenhal and not know everything about the castle and its people. I believe the man can be of use here, furthermore, if he is talking to you about these issues relating to his family, well then that means we can ensure that develops.”

His brother looks at him curiously. “How do you propose on doing that? As far as I know it would take some serious drinking before Lord Tyrion ever speaks to me about such matters in depth. I think he only told me what he did because he was feeling sorry for me.”

It is Robb’s turn to laugh now. “Oh come now brother, do not play the fool with me. You are good with getting people to talk, and you know it. Lord Tyrion clearly feels a kinship with you, and from the way you described it, it seems as if he is not looking forward to returning to King’s Landing. You put forward the invitation for him to remain here in Harrenhal for a time, get to know him, play on those feelings of kinship, and get to know him.”

His brother looks somewhat discomfited by this. “Is that not somewhat manipulative? Is that not what the Lannisters do brother? Use people’s good intentions for their own purpose and then use them against them”

Robb fixes his brother with a steely gaze. “Do you want the Lannisters to try something on our family again? Do you want father to stumble around blindly or do you want to help him?”

“Of course I want to help father!” Jon replies heatedly. “But surely I would be better served helping him from within the city? There is more honour in working to bring down an enemy when you are close to them than when you are far away and acting like a coward.”

Robb’s patience begins to wane then. “Honour has nothing to do with this. The attack on Bran had no honour, the fall had no honour. They have no honour. To beat the Lannisters you have to be better than them. And I will make sure they fall. Now do you want to remain here and be of some use, or go on some wild chase that might end in your death?”

His brother sighs. “I will remain here Robb, but I want to find out who my mother is.”

Robb smiles. “Of course brother, and I will help you. After all we are in Harrenhal, the place where secrets are made. Surely there will be some information on her here.”

His brother looks at him then and says. “I know she was from Dorne, or that she died there, that’s what father said.”

Robb considers this then and then responds. “Well, let us look at the old records from the tourney of Harrenhal and begin there. And remember brother, father can lie as well.”


	18. Chapter 17: Plotting Queen

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Queen Cersei Lannister**

It was good to be back in King’s Landing, and away from the wolf infested den that was Harrenhal. There were time when Cersei wondered what her husband saw in the Starks. To hear him tell it, the sun shone out of the Starks every move, and yet to her she saw the darkness of their souls and the corruption there waiting to be let loose. They were a treasonous family, had easily turned their cloaks against the dragons, and she knew that Stark was trying to see her replaced. Her spies had confirmed it, and now her husband, her oaf of a husband was planning on going through with it. Well, she would not accept that, she was a lioness and she would not go down.

“Who is it that my oaf of a husband is looking at replacing me with?” Cersei asks.

Pycelle is silent a moment looking all for the world as if he is unhappy to be here. And yet because of his professed loyalty to her and her father, here he is. “It seems either a Estermont, or someone from the Reach. He is spending a lot of time conversing with his brother Lord Renly as well as with Lord Stark about this subject matter.”

“Pah, the Stormlands won’t need to offer him any wife, he would take who he saw fit. As for the Reach, why do I suspect that it is that Tyrell harlot?” Cersei says. “Renly has been trying to get his brother to look at her ever since she came to court. Perhaps I might dismiss her from Myrcella’s service.”

“I would advise against that my Queen,” Pycelle responds. “Keeping Lady Margaery here is a sure way to make sure that Lord Mace does not do anything that might go against your interests. Remove her from King’s Landing and you are giving him the perfect opportunity to act.”

Cersei snorts. “Tyrell will not act so long as his mother is there to keep him on a leash. The Queen of Thorns is many things, but I do not think she is as foolish as her son. She knows only bad things can come from waking a lion.”

Jaime speaks then his tone somewhat neutral. “I do not think so. Tyrell wants more influence, what better way to get that influence than from removing you from the throne, and placing the girl there. After all, look at how much our family has benefitted from having you as Queen and Robert as he is. The Tyrells will hope to gain twice as much, given their relationship with Renly.”

Cersei looks at her brother then and muses aloud. “Then perhaps the best way to prevent this from happening is to discredit the girl and the Tyrells in Robert’s eyes. He never held as much of a grudge against them for the siege of Storm’s End compared to Stannis. The question is, how to make him see them for what they are.”

Jaime speaks once more. “Perhaps we make them become antagonistic towards Stark. We know that Stark does not trust us, but he has even less reason to trust the Tyrells. After all they are the ones who very nearly prevented him from getting to his sister during the rebellion, and furthermore, there has been all this talk of the heir to Winterfell and Lady Tyrell. If we make it seem as if they are using him, then Stark will get angry.”

Cersei looks at her brother, surprised at the words coming from his mouth, she feels a rush of attraction then. “Why brother, one might think you have been paying attention to the games of court, and not merely acting as a white knight puppet.”

Her brother merely grins. “I do pay attention when my family is threatened, and right now we are under severe threat.”

Cersei looks at her brother, and then looks at Pycelle. “So what word has there been of Stark’s search into Jon Arryn’s death? Has he found anything that could be used against us?”

Once more the man looks somewhat uncomfortable but he still replies. “From what my sources have told me, he has not been able to find much on what caused Jon Arryn’s death. Though it does seem as though Lord Baelish has been helping him, pointing him in one direction, continuously. And it does seem as though Baelish is trying to increase Stark’s suspicion of you my queen.”

Cersei considers this a moment and then responds. “Baelish is a worm who no doubt is trying to sow chaos within the realm. I think the time is coming for when we must reveal what it is that he has been doing. And just what the nature of his relationship with Lady Lysa was, and is. That should do much to discredit him in the eyes of Stark and any other fool that wants to believe the word of a sellsword’s son.”

Pycelle speaks then. “A good plan Your Grace, and one that could well spell the end of Baelish’s time here within King’s Landing. But the question then arises, what prevented you from doing this beforehand. Why wait until this moment to present the charges that almost all within court know for true, apart from Stark?”

Cersei looks at the man and responds. “It did not behove us to show this information beforehand. We have become aware of new information suggesting Baelish’s intentions are not pure. There are all kinds of arguments that could be used to show that we are doing this in good faith. Add to this the fact that Baelish has been known to work alongside Lord Renly, and the Tyrells, and the doubt will be placed.”

Jaime chips in then. “What of Robert? The man might be an oaf, but should a trail be placed, he will follow it until he comes to realise the answer that has been staring him in the face all this time. That is one thing we cannot have.”

Cersei looks at her brother and then looks at Pycelle. “You need not worry about Robert, sweet brother, for he shall be dead before the moon is out.”


	19. Chapter 18: Dwarf

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Tyrion Lannister**

Harrenhal was an intriguing castle, built by Harren the Black and completed the day Aegon the Conqueror landed in Westeros, the castle had been burned by Aegon’s dragons during the conquest, but then later had been rebuilt. Successive houses had ruled Harrenhal, first House Qoherys, who with the King’s permission had taken a loan from the Iron Bank and rebuilt the castle, successive houses had added to the rebuilding and to the loan. But eventually under House Targaryen the loan was paid off, thanks to some skilled negotiating from one of the Kings, was it Daeron or Maekar, Tyrion could never quite remember. Either way, it was now in Stark hands, and the Lord of Harrenhal was an active man, meeting with members of his household as well as with the common folk, it seemed he was going to keep both Winterfell and Harrenhal, an intriguing concept but also a somewhat troubling one as well. Of course it was not within Tyrion’s purview to worry about, no he was here to help Jon find himself as it were.

As it were, they were currently within the old archives looking through records of the Tourney of Harrenhal. Tyrion listens as Jon speaks. “Now this is strange, it says here that Lord Walter Whent received a donation of some four hundred thousand dragons about a year before the tourney was held. The maester of the time does not say who or where this donation came from, but it seems that after the donation was received Lord Whent pursued the tourney idea with much vigour.”

Tyrion considers this a moment and then says. “Well that is certainly most interesting. I was a boy of eight when that happened. I think I remember my father saying something about all of that.”

Jon looks at him then and asks. “Was your father involved in such a thing? The plotting to remove King Aerys?”

Tyrion snorts. “Do not sound so surprised Jon. King Aerys was mad, he was very mad, and as such I think what my father was doing, was trying to replace one mad king with someone who showed some ability to rule.”

Jon Snow snorts then. “Really? From what you have told me, your father seems like the type of man who would prefer it if he was the only one doing the ruling. He does not seem like the type of man to want to share in anything.”

Tyrion grins. “That is true, my father is a strange man. He claims to be looking after the family, and yet some of his more interesting policies have actually hurt our family.” He knows he is saying more than perhaps he should be, but he finds that he does not really care.

Snow looks contemplative. “Why is that? If he is so determined to have some sort of a lasting legacy why is he so seemingly contradictory?”

Tyrion sighs. “Because he is a man, and men are more complicated than we are taught as children. Look at your own father, he is said to be one of the most honourable men in the realm, and yet he has a bastard son, he has you. And he refuses to tell you who your mother is, what do you think of that?”

Snow looks grim then. “I do not know, I think my father is a fool. What is he trying to hide? What could be surrounding my birth that is so shameful, that it needs to be hidden? I am nearly a man grown, I deserve to know.”

Tyrion nods in agreement. “Of course, one would think your father was ashamed of something or the other. But,” he stretches his arms out then gesturing at the archives before them. “We have all the information of Harrenhal before us. I think we shall find something.”

Just as he finishes, Jon speaks, holding a document. “I think I might have something of interest here.” Jon comes to where Tyrion is sitting and puts the document down on the table. They both begin to read.

When they are done, Tyrion looks at Jon and says. “So there was definitely an attempt made to change the way the kingdoms were being run, but it seems that it was not what everyone thinks.”

“And my grandfather was involved in it?” Jon asks sounding confused. “Why? Why would they want to give more power to a man who was mad?”

Tyrion looks at the document before them and then at Jon. “Well if this is to be believed, Lord Rickard’s support was guaranteed when some arrangement between the two families was made. A marriage it seems. But between who is not clear. Prince Rhaegar was married, and Prince Viserys was a child, so who could the marriage have been between?”

“Furthermore, why is this here and not in Winterfell?” Jon asks.

To that Tyrion shrugs his shoulders. “I do not know, but what it seems according to this is that there was more to Harrenhal than first thought. And furthermore, perhaps things between father and son were not as bad as the histories make out.”

“Was it an act then?” Jon asks. “As in the whole familial tension, and if so to what purpose?”

Once more Tyrion does not know the answer, instead he merely replies. “I think that there is more to this, and the longer we spend here the more we shall find out. But is there not something more pressing that we need to find?”

Jon nods and then silence falls between them, Tyrion watches as his friend peruses through the letters and papers on the shelves, he is curious, he thinks that the boy is being used against him, but he knows that there are points where he can exploit. Jon Snow is desperate for company, someone who is not his brother, whether he realises it or not, and Tyrion, well he knows how to exploit a situation when it is presented before him. He looks down and shifts through the papers before him, when something stands out. “Jon.”

His friend looks at him then and asks. “What? Have you found something?”

“I think I might well have found two things. Come here.” Tyrion responds.

His friend comes over and looks at the letters on the table and gasps. “That cannot be. Does that mean?”

Tyrion looks at his friend and then says. “I think it might well mean what we think it means.”


	20. Chapter 19: Harrenhal and Dragons

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**7 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Robb Stark**

Harrenhal was a big castle, a towering fortress, and whilst a large part of it had been rebuilt, another part of it was still there in ruins. Robb knew that soon enough he would need to ensure it was all completely rebuilt, but given the dark times ahead, he was not sure whether spending the money in the coffers for such a thing now was wise. Furthermore, he missed his wife, he missed her smile, her laugh, everything, there was an anger developing inside of him around Renly Baratheon, and the foolishness he had been tricked into. He should have seen it coming, he should have known that Renly would not have given up his prize so easily. It was frustrating, but he did not know what to do about it. Then there was the fact that Bran was soon to be arriving in King’s Landing. His brother had stopped by in Harrenhal briefly, but then had left. Robb was nervous about that, but he was not sure what was going to happen there was much and more he was not sure about.

A knock on the door stirs him from his thoughts. “Come in.” he calls and he sees Jon and Lord Tyrion enter the room, they had been spending a fair bit of time together as of late, and Robb knows his mother would have something to say about that should she be here, but his mother was not, she was in Winterfell, alongside Rickon. “Jon, Lord Tyrion what can I do for you?” he asks.

His brother looks somewhat uncertain but speaks all the same. “Sorry to disturb you Robb, but as you know, Tyrion and I have been looking into some things within the archives of Harrenhal, and as such we have found some interesting things.”

Robb looks at his brother and asks. “Oh? And what might these things be?”

His brother brings forward two documents and puts one down on the table before him. “This document suggests there was more to the tourney of Harrenhal than we have been taught. From what it suggests, there might well not have been a tourney called to remove Aerys but rather to strengthen him.”

Robb looks at his brother and then looks at the document, he reads it and feels something akin to shock run through him. “And our grandfather was part of this?”

Jon nods. “It would seem so. It would seem that the anonymous donation that Lord Whent received came from within King’s Landing. Whent looked into it, as did Prince Rhaegar, but he never found out where it came from.”

“And why would our grandfather want something like that? By all accounts Aerys was mad. he burned our grandfather and made our uncle watch when this happened. Why give more power to a mad king?” Robb muses.

“It is possible Aerys was not as mad as we all think my lord,” Tyrion says. “It is possible that those who wanted him removed from the throne made it so that he appeared mad.”

Robb looks at the dwarf. “You mean your father and if this letter is to be believed Prince Rhaegar?”

“Yes.” the dwarf responds. “It would have suited their purpose to see King Aerys removed from the throne. We know from records found following the sack that the king was not always mad, but nor was he completely coherent. It seems Pycelle might well have had something to do with that. Misinformation plays a big part in the game of thrones my lord. Look at what is happening now.”

Robb perks up at this, but files this question he now has in his mind for later. Instead he looks at the letter and then his brother. “This cannot be all that you wanted to bring before me. This information does us more harm than good, the rebellion was long ago, and now well, we would be better keeping this to ourselves. What more have you found?”

His brother takes a deep breath and then asks. “What do you remember of our lessons about the early Targaryens, brother?”

Robb looks at his brother intrigued. “I remember the wars between King Maegor and his nephews, and the disappearance of his nieces Aerea and Rhalla, and the arguments between our own ancestor and King Jaehaerys why?”

“There might well be more to that then we know. And it might explain why Prince Rhaegar took off with Aunt Lyanna.” Jon says, placing the second document on the table.

Robb picks up the document and reads it:

  _I, Maegor Targaryen, first of his name, King of the First Men, the Andals and the Rhoynar, Lord Protector of the Realm, do hereby grant my approval of the marriage between Princess Aerea, and Eddard Stark heir to Winterfell.  Furthermore, by right of this document, I do hereby confirm and acknowledge Princess Aerea as my rightful heir, and any children born from this union to be heirs to the throne and my line.  Furthermore, should something happen to Princess Aerea, then her sister Princess Rhalla is to marry Eddard Stark and the terms are to apply to their marriage as well._

Robb looks at his brother, and Jon merely says. “Keep reading brother.”

Robb looks back at the paper and continues.

_I, Prince Aegon Targaryen, eldest son and heir to King Jaehaerys Targaryen, first of that name, do hereby acknowledge the right of Princess Aerea to the throne of Westeros and to furthermore acknowledge this support, confirm the marriage of my sister Maegelle, to Princess Aerea’s son Donnor Stark. I do this, not for any other reason than they have the rightful claim, and my father is a tyrant undeserving of the throne._

Robb looks up, and then back at the document. More and more confirmation, of old lines, the true lines to the throne giving their consent to marriage within his family. He looks at his brother, and then looks at Lord Tyrion. “Is this saying what I think it is saying?”

It is the dwarf who speaks. “It would appear so my lord.”

“Close the door.” Robb says, and when the door is closed he speaks. “No word of this can reach the capital for now. But Jon, I want you to send a letter to my mother, tell her the crow has flown. She will know what that means. I think it is time we began looking into this more. Lord Tyrion, you know people at the citadel correct?”

“I do my lord.” the dwarf responds.

“Ask them to send you all you can about Princess Aerea and the time of the faith uprising. And I shall speak to the green men. There are things we must do now.” Robb says, excitement growing inside of him.

Jon speaks then. “What do you intend to do brother?”

Robb looks at him and says. “I intend to find out what happened with our ancestors, and with Prince Aegon. He disappeared from the records before his brother Prince Aemon was a man grown. I think we know why now. It is time we did what we should have done long ago.”


	21. Chapter 20: Fawn

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**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Renly Baratheon**

Things were beginning to heat up within King’s Landing, his brother was ailing, that was obvious for all to see, years of heavy drinking and little exercise were taking their toll on Robert. Renly knew exactly who it was that was responsible for his brother’s ailing condition, the problem was he had little evidence to actually prove that. Furthermore, he knew that Lord Stark was growing more and more tired of his duties within the capital, something was going to break, but he did not know what. That was why he had asked to meet with the Hand of the King, to try and determine what to do. Lord Stark looked haggard, very haggard, and Renly worries that the Lannister whore might well have gotten to him as well.

“You wished to speak with me Lord Renly?” Lord Stark asks, his voice sounding tired and weary.

Renly nods. “I did indeed my lord. May I sit down?”

“Of course.” Lord Stark responds.

Renly sits down, and then speaks. “How are you feeling my lord? You look tired.”

Stark looks at him curiously then. “I am fine, a little tired but nothing more. Why do you ask?”

Renly looks at the man and responds. “You look more than just tired my lord, you look as if you have been drained of all energy. It is quite worrying.”

Stark snorts then. “Have you been speaking to Pycelle?”

“No, why?” Renly asks concerned.

“He has been saying the same thing. But I think he is asking more out of hope than anything else.” Stark replies.

“What makes you say that my lord?” Renly queries.

“I might not be good at playing the game, but I am not an idiot. I know that Pycelle is working for the Queen and for Tywin Lannister. I know that he hopes that I will fall sick, and die, similar to the king.” Lord Stark responds.

Renly sighs then. “So you accept that the king is dying?”

“Yes. I am not a fool, I know that Robert’s way of life is finally catching up with him, and having Pycelle here is most likely not doing him any favours.” Stark responds.

“Then why not try and do something that prevents this from happening? It is not too late, my brother could be healed if given the right treatment. Remove Pycelle and get another maester to see to him.” Renly says.

Stark looks at him, and in his eyes Renly sees complete and utter dejection, it scares him. “I do not know whether that would make any difference. All the other maesters here are Lannister cronies, I know from looking into them. Furthermore, trying to get a new maester from the citadel would take too much time. Time that Robert would not have.”

“So are you just going to give up on him? You would give up on your king and your friend? You would leave him to the Lannisters?” Renly asks, not even bothering to hide the disgust he feels.

Stark’s eyes harden then. “No. I am thinking of some way to prevent Robert’s death, but I am coming up blank. The only thing I could think of was trying to see if the Green men could cure him. Robert himself is allowing himself to fade.”

“The Green Men? How could they help?” Renly asks seizing onto whatever it is that he can.

Stark looks at him, his eyes telling Renly that he is broken. “There are some herbal remedies they could provide, some natural things that they might be able to give. But Robert does not want them, he does not want to live once more. I think he wants to merely fade.”

Renly looks at Stark stunned. “How? Why? Why would my brother give up so easily? He thought a damned war to get the woman he loved back, why would he now give up?”

Lord Stark merely stares at him for a moment and then he responds. “I think Robert has given up now, he has fought for so very long, trying to convince himself that it was all worth it, but now, well now he thinks he wants to sleep. Who are we to question the will of the king?”

Renly feels anger surge through him then, a strong sense of anger. “This is not right. You know the Lannisters are doing this, they are the ones who are poisoning Robert, so why are you not trying to bring them down?”

Stark looks at him and responds. “I have been trying to do that since I have been in King’s Landing. But there are other things that have been taking up my time. The crown’s finances are in a dire state, and I think Baelish has been stealing money from the treasury. I do not know what to do about that. Furthermore, my son and daughters are here, I have to take care of them as well.”

“Why did you bring them here if you knew the risks?” Renly asks surprised.

“My daughter Sansa is still betrothed to the crown prince, but I am going to send Arya home. She has not enjoyed her time here. As for my son Bran, well if I can make sure that one of the princes does not turn out rotten, then I would not have failed Robert.” Stark says.

Renly stares at Stark. “And if Cersei moves against you? You know that the moment Robert dies, she will try to remove you as king. When she does that, where will you get support from?”

Stark looks at him then and asks. “Would you not support me? During a regency, it has to be done. Cersei shall need to be removed from the capital, and Tywin Lannister will need to be placated.”

Renly thinks about this and then says. “Or there is another route you could go.”

Stark is silent for a long time and then he responds. “That is treason. They are Robert’s children.”

Renly laughs then. “Are they? Or is that just what you wish to think?”

“Do you have proof for such accusations?” Stark asks.

Renly looks at Stark and merely responds. “Come with me, there is a place we must go. That might well provide some answers for you.”


	22. Chapter 21: Revelations

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

His mind was whirring, Robert was dying that much was true, and yet Renly seemed to be suggesting something be done about the Lannisters, that did not involve removing the children from their mother, but the alternative would be something that went against the course of nature, and yet, there was a part of Ned that thought perhaps nature was working here. As they walked out of his solar and out of the keep they walked through the streets of King’s Landing, Ned was wondering where the man was taking him, and then he remembered, Tobho Mott’s forge, he looks at Renly then and he wonders.

Renly stops before the forge, and looks at him. “What are we doing here Renly?” Ned asks.

“There is a child inside that forge that will make you realise supporting Joffrey and his siblings is not the right thing to do.” Renly responds.

Ned looks at the Lord of Storm’s End a moment and then he asks. “And is this child a boy with black hair, blue eyes and a build like a bull?”

Renly looks at him surprised. “You know of him?”

“Know of him? I have spoken with him. I spoke with him to see why Lord Arryn and Stannis came here to speak with him.” Ned responds.

Renly looks at him and then says. “Why have you not said anything about this beforehand? And if you know that this boy is Robert’s bastard then why have you not brought that before Robert? Surely you must know what this means?”

Ned looks at the man and responds. “Because I did not have enough proof. One bastard does not prove anything Lord Renly, I need more evidence.”

“And what evidence could you require? One bastard is here, but for how long? It took me a long time to think of a place that could be secure enough for him. Now that we know where he is, what makes you think Cersei has not found out where he is? The other bastards will die soon, Cersei will make sure of it. The proof is right here before you. Use your brain Lord Stark.” Renly snaps.

Ned looks at him then and says. “And what do you think people will say when I present this evidence before the king and the court? They will point to my own children and ask them if my wife has slept with her brother. Do you think they will believe me? No I need a true piece of evidence. I need a confession.”

The Lord of Storm’s End looks at him surprised. “And where are you thinking of getting this confession from? Ser Jaime? He’d laugh at you and tell you to go stick your head where the sun does not shine. As for the Queen, well she’d be more like to kill you before she admits to anything that threatens her children.”

Ned looks at Lord Renly and responds. “The Queen will say whatever she wants to say if she feels threatened, or if she feels confident. A confession is a must for this.”

“Then you are signing your own death warrant. The moment you go before the Queen and tell her your suspicions she shall have you found out and imprisoned and perhaps even killed. Robert is in no fit state to do anything about it. Do not do this foolishness my lord.” Renly says.

Ned merely looks at the man and says. “I must do the right thing here, Queen Cersei must have a chance to defend herself against these claims and contest them if she thinks to do so. If she does contest but cannot prove why she is doing that, then she is guilty. It is my word against hers. I am the Hand.”

“And she is the Queen. She has more supporters here than you do. And the whole realm knows of your dislike for the Lannisters my lord. They will merely claim you are doing this for your own benefit should you bring this before the court, and Cersei will say the same thing. Do not make that mistake. Please Stark, for the good of the realm do not confront Cersei.” Renly pleads.

Ned looks at the man and merely responds. “I must do the honourable thing. There is nothing more dishonourable than making these accusations without the Queen being given a chance to defend herself.  Robert would want the children dead, and there are fools here who would do his bidding just to get the reward. And then there are those who would want you on the throne because you are the closest here in proximity to the throne. We must give her a fair chance.”

The Lord of Storm’s End looks at him, a growing fury within him. “And she will not give you such a chance my lord. To think that she would is foolish and perhaps even more idiotic. Are you Aerys to trust the words of a Lannister? Do something about this, help me here, and help me my lord, please.”

They have not moved from outside the forge, but Ned is growing in anger now. “I am not Aerys, I am not Rhaegar, I am my own man, and I will do as I see fit. Regardless of my choices, supporting your claim to the throne would be going against the laws of succession. Stannis is the rightful heir to Robert, not you.”

The Lord of Storm’s End looks at him and then says. “And who would support Stannis? The man who fled King’s Landing when Jon Arryn died? You say he helped Jon Arryn look into the truth, and then he fled. Why would he flee if he was not guilty of something?”

Ned looks at him and asks. “Are you suggesting Stannis had Jon Arryn killed? Why? That is not Stannis’s way.”

The Lord of Storm’s End snorts. “My brother, my brother is not the good man he always pretends to be. There is a burning ambition there and poison. He would be bad for the realm and you know it, so please do not make a mistake here, support me and my bid for the throne. Support me and let us end this once and for all.”


	23. Chapter 22: Death of a King

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**King Robert I Baratheon**

He saw his father and mother every time he slept now. He could see their disappointment in him, he had not been a good brother, father or lord, and he had been a terrible one. He had allowed his own desires overcome him and turn him into that which he had promised he would never be. He saw Lyanna in his dreams as well, and she, well she revealed things to him he thought he had always known but did not always like. Robert Baratheon was dying, and yet he found that he did not care. All that mattered now was speaking with Ned and with Renly and having this done and dusted.

The room was dark, at least it seemed that way to him, and yet when he called out for Ned, his friend came and knelt beside him. “Do not lean so closely Ned, you could get this. And that would be disastrous.”

His friend merely looks at him his eyes solemn. “I think we both know that you are not contagious regarding this illness Robert. Something else was done to you.”

Robert thanks the gods that the whore and her son are not here, for he laughs then and says. “Ah, I did always like your straight forwardness Ned. I should have asked you to come to King’s Landing sooner than I did. Perhaps we could have sorted out the kingdoms together.”

His friend gives him a sad smile. “I think we could have done that as well. Perhaps we could have stopped Jon from messing everything up.”

“Ah don’t be so hard on the old man. He tried to do the best he could, but I think he was just too old for all of this. Perhaps you should have taken the throne. You would have done a far better job than I did.” Robert says.

He laughs at the look on Ned’s face. “I would not have lasted as long as you Your Grace. I am not built for all of these games. I know my duty and I know how to do it.”

Robert laughs then and his body is wracked with pain. “Then you are either going to hate me or praise me for what I am about to do. Renly come here.” His brother comes forward then clutching a piece of paper and a quill. “Good, you have everything. Give the things to Ned.” His brother does as told, and then Robert takes another deep breath and speaks. “I, Robert of the House Baratheon, First of My Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, oh fuck it, you know the titles Ned, write them down.” he waits for his friend to finish writing and takes another breath before continuing. “I in my final moments of peace and serenity, hereby denounce my children Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen and remove them from the succession. It has come to my attention that they are not fit to rule, and therefore, I do not feel content leaving the kingdoms in their possession. Furthermore, my brother Stannis, having fled like a murderer and a coward, is excluded from the succession as is his daughter Shireen Baratheon. This therefore means that my heir and successor is my brother Renly Baratheon, the Lord of Storm’s End. I confirm him as my heir, knowing full well the consequences of this.”

There is a long silence following this, and Robert cranes his head up. “What, why are you so silent?”

Ned speaks. “Are you certain of this Your Grace?”

Robert looks at Ned and laughs, his laughter not as booming as it once was, but he merely says. “Of course I am bloody sure, I know there will be no hope for Joffrey, and Tommen well, he might be good for one thing, but not another. Get your children out of King’s Landing Ned, and do it quickly, before Cersei acts. Now give me that damn thing.”  His friend passes it to him alongside the quill, and with shaking hands Robert signs it, before passing it back to his friend. “Affix the seal, and do all the necessary things. Renly come here.”

His brother comes to lean next to him, Robert stares at him long and hard and says. “You will need to marry, and quickly, the Tyrell girl is still at court is she not?”

A strange look passes over his brother’s face then, and Robert wonders at it, but he quickly pushes that away. “She is.” his brother responds.

“Then marry her. And be quick about it. The Tyrells will want this marriage, and it will mean Loras remains at court.” Robert replies, laughing at his brother’s surprised expression. “What did you think I was completely blind to what was happening at my court? I am not a complete idiot Renly. Ned and I have been thinking of this all along, haven’t we Ned?”

His friend nods. “We have. But what of the children Robert? What will you do with them?”

Robert groans at that, and feels a deep pain shoot through him. “Deal with them as you see fit. They are a liability now, but they can be deal with peacefully. And make sure that the Targaryens are dealt with as well. Varys as well, the man is slipping into something, and I do not know what.”

His friend looks at him then and says. “It will be done Your Grace.”

“Good, Ned make sure your children are out of the capital before you confront Cersei about this. I do not want more innocent blood on my hands. Please just make sure of this. And Renly, do not make the mistakes I did, make sure you know your heirs. And watch for the Tyrells they are an ambitious lot.” Robert mumbles, the world going dark, his heart is pounding and he can see Lyanna calling out to him now. He looks at her brother and smiles sadly. “I know about Lyanna Ned, but I’ll still tell her you love her. Keep her child safe.”

Robert laughs at the surprised look on his friend’s face, and as he laughs he feels blood coming forward, and then the world goes black, and Robert Baratheon, the Demon of the Trident, the King Stag, the man who slew dragons, breathes his last, and leaves behind a realm on the verge of war. 


	24. Chapter 23: Harrenhal and Intrigues

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Robb Stark**

His heart was aching for Margaery, he wanted her by his side, quite desperately, and he wanted his family back. He was not sure why he had agreed to Renly Baratheon’s terms, but now that he had, he knew he was somewhat bound to it. For a time at least, there were other things that had been occupying his mind for the time being. Ensuring Harrenhal and the lords sworn to it, knew who he was, and knew that their first loyalty was to him, and him alone. Then there was his own considerations toward Winterfell and the heirship of it, whether or not he would continue to hold it or not. Some part of him was wondering that, and now with his uncle here, there was a time to discuss many things.

“So tell me uncle, what word has there been from amongst the other Riverlords? Have they voiced their opinions on this choice of me as Lord of Harrenhal?” Robb asks.

His uncle, Ser Edmure, heir to Riverrun speaks. “Not many have spoken out against it Robb, Bracken has voiced some complaints as has Frey but neither have enough clout within the Riverlands or elsewhere to truly make anything of it.”

Robb considers this and then responds. “And of course Frey has ties to Tywin Lannister, so it does somewhat behove him to make these complaints. As for Bracken, well he is only one person that can cause some trouble, but he is faced by opposition on all sides. What would you say to that Lord Tyrion?”

Tyrion Lannister, the dwarf heir to the Rock is someone who Robb has increasingly found quite useful. “I think that you are right in suggesting that Bracken is not the main concern here. Frey, well Frey is an old man, but his ties to my father are something that should most definitely be considered. After all the gold of the Rock is old, whilst the money from Harrenhal is somewhat new.”

Ser Edmure looks at him then and then at the dwarf. “Are you certain of that? After all Frey knows where things are being sown within the Riverlands, he knows that it would make him look a fool to try anything outward against us, not with a strong ally within the crown.”

“Do you truly think that the king will last long enough to prevent any such hostilities as they might well develop? My sister will ensure that something happens to the king, furthermore, my father is going to be pushing toward something more sinister.” Tyrion says.

Robb speaks then. “Do you think that Tywin Lannister would dare risk the wrath of three kingdoms to further some strange objective? That does not sound like the man you have painted a picture of.”

The dwarf takes a moment to consider this before replying. “I think my father has been working on something for a very long time. I remember the last time I was in the Rock he was planning something with my uncle Kevan. There was talk of how King Robert was going to be going down to the ground soon enough. I do not know the full context of all of this, but I know he has been planning something.”

“That would make sense, with what we know from the lords on the border. They’ve been reporting some sort of martial activity within the Westerlands for the past few weeks now. It seems there is something going on within the west, and despite my letters being sent asking to know what they are doing, no response has of yet come. My father, thinks that they might be preparing for war.” Uncle Edmure states.

“War with whom though?” Robb wonders. “My father has not yet made any move to displace Queen Cersei from power, and as far as we know, though the king is ailing he is still alive. There is not much that Lord Tywin could hope to do without antagonising most of the realm. And even then I do not think he could survive such a thing.”

Jon speaks then. “I am not sure whether Lord Tywin truly cares about that though. He could well claim that it is merely border tensions going on. After all, have you not been saying Ser Edmure, that there have been clashes between lords from both the Riverlands and the Westerlands?”

Ser Edmure looks at Robb’s brother then and says. “Yes, but surely that is not cause enough for going for military action instead of coming to the table for talks. Lord Tywin does not seem to be the type of person to go for brute force where peaceful discussion can be used as it were.”

Tyrion snorts. “You do not know my father then my lord. Lord Tywin is a man who will do whatever it takes to ensure that his legacy is intact, and right now the signs within the kingdoms point to that being threatened.”

Robb looks at the man then and says. “Then what is his objective here? Is it to end the conflicts with the Riverlords once and for all, or is it to ensure that the king remembers what is what?” Robb thinks briefly of what Lord Renly had said to him when he was here, and he thinks of what Margaery had said to him once long ago. “If he chooses to go for war, then he must know he will be crushed, he has little to no other allies within the realm. And the king is not so much enthral to him.”

“I do not know what my father is planning on doing my lord, but I suggest that you send word to Winterfell my lord, and make sure that your lords are prepared for war should it come.” Tyrion says.

Robb thinks about over this for a moment, and then says. “And I suggest you send word to those within King’s Landing and the Westerlands who might well rally to your cause. We shall not allow Tywin Lannister to dictate the terms anymore.”


	25. Chapter 24: A Surprised King

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Renly Baratheon**

His brother was dead, Renly looks at his brother, and does not see the rise and fall of his chest. He does not know what to feel, for so long he has looked up to his brother, feared him even, and loathed him as well, and now his brother is dead. Gone, just as easily as anyone else. A strange thought really, stranger still is the fact that he is now king, by Robert’s will he is the king, and as such that means he has all kinds of responsibilities. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, or does he? He looks at Lord Stark and says. “We must let them others know.”

“Yes Your Grace.” Stark responds.  And together they stand and walk from the room, Renly listens as Stark tells the Lannister whore and her children that the king is dead, and he watches numbly as they enter the room, two of the Kingsguard following.

There is a long silence, and then Ser Barristan comes before them and asks. “What is that in your hand Lord Stark?”

Renly looks at the paper, the will in Lord Stark’s hand and listens as the man says. “It is King Robert’s last will and testament Ser Barristan.”

The knight nods, and then walks off. Renly looks at his retreating back and then calls out. “Ser Barristan, if you could return here please?”

Renly sees Lord Stark shoot him a warning look, but he does not care, he must make sure he has as many allies as possible. “You wished to speak with me my lord?” the knight asks standing before him.

“Give him the will Lord Stark. Let Ser Barristan see what has been written in it.” Renly says.

Stark hands the knight the will, and Renly watches as the old knight opens it and then reads it, his eyes widening as he goes on, he then stops reading and looks at Renly. “You are King Robert’s true heir?”

“Yes.” Renly responds.

A moment’s silence and then Ser Barristan bows his head. “Your Grace. What do you wish to be done?”

Renly is not surprised that it was so easy to bring Barristan around, the man is biddable as anything. “I want you to go and rally the remaining Kingsguard, make sure they are prepared for what is to come. Furthermore, I want you to make sure that Pycelle and any other Lannister men and women are taken into custody.”

The knight nods his head and then asks. “And the children?”

Renly looks at Stark and then responds. “Leave them to me, I shall handle them.”

The knight nods and then hands the will back to Lord Stark and walks off. Renly is therefore left with Stark, and a moment of silence falls between them, and then Stark speaks. “What do you intend to do now Your Grace?”

“Well first let us move away from this room, I do not want the woman hearing our conversation.” Renly responds, they move from outside the room and walk toward the hallway, where they stop in an alcove.  “I intend to place the children under house arrest of the time being, and furthermore, I shall see the Kingslayer and the Queen Whore executed for treason. Joffrey might well join them on the block.”

Stark looks somewhat disconcerted by this. “Joffrey is only a boy, why should he suffer for the crimes of his true parents?”

“Because he is a threat to my rule, and he is a vicious brute who must needs be removed. And as for your niece or nephew that my brother mentioned, I want them summoned to court at once.” Renly responds.

Stark remains deathly silent at this and then says. “They have not done anything, they are of no harm to you or your rule. They do not even know the truth of their parentage.”

“I still want them to come to court, it is time I knew all that was going on within my realm. I shall not allow the realm to go unchecked, not like it did under Robert.” Renly responds.

“What of the Tyrells? Will you marry Lady Margaery? And hurt my son?” Stark asks.

Renly hides his surprise but responds. “Truth be told, I shall think on that when the time comes. But we must act now. I suggest you get your affairs in order, protect your children and ready your men.”

Stark’s jaw juts out in defiance. “I will not move from here until I know you will not harm the children. They do not deserve to suffer for their parents crimes.”

Renly can feel his impatience growing. “Stark, we do not have time for this. What happens now will determine what happens to those children. We must act quickly and without pain, otherwise there will be more bloodshed.”

“I need your promise my king. Otherwise this is not going to work.” Stark insists.

Renly groans then, his impatience growing. “Fine, I will make the damned promise Stark, on my honour as a knight and on my honour as king, the children shall not be harmed, now shall we make some damned progress through this.”

Stark nods, and they walk forward, out of the alcove and into the hallway, where they are greeted by the sound of steel on steel.  Renly stiffens then, what is happening, has Loras already made his move? It is too soon, but no the more they walk on they find Lannister and Stark men fighting, and then there before them is the Kingslayer. “Ah well if it isn’t the two traitors. I am afraid you’re going to have to come with me my lords.”

Stark speaks then. “It is you who is the traitor Kingslayer. You have broken the king’s peace.”

“Really? Because it was the king who ordered me to do this. Now come with me or die.” the Kingslayer responds.

Before either man can respond, there is the sound of feet on the floor, and Renly breathes a sigh of relief to see Loras and the Tyrell men coming toward them. “Go Your Grace, go with Ser Loras and leave now.”

The Kingslayer moves towards him but is blocked by Tyrell men, Renly hurries through and calls back. “I will try and get to your children Stark.” Stark merely nods and as the chaos erupts once more, Renly turns to Loras and asks. “Where is Margaery?”

“She is waiting for us. We must move quickly now Renly.” Loras replies over the din, and so they move forward, Renly determined to make it out of here alive, and worrying all the while of what is going to come from this.


	26. Chapter 25: Caged

****

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing **

**Bran Stark**

King’s Landing was a scary place, but it was also a very interesting one, Bran quite liked it here, he could see why Sansa liked it as well, for it was quite different to what they were used in Winterfell. There was more to do here, more to explore, and Bran had a friend in Prince Tommen, he was not as lonely as Arya was, and well, he preferred it here than to Winterfell or even Harrenhal. But of course something was happening now, and it worried him, it worried Summer as well, for Bran could see that his direwolf was pacing up and down worried.

“What’s going on Sansa? Why is there so much noise outside?” Bran asks, looking at his eldest sister some concern on his face.

His sister looks at him then, concern on her face as well. “I do not know Bran, I am sure it is nothing though. Perhaps things have gotten only slightly complicated with the king being ill. I am sure father will come to get us soon.”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Father has been ignoring us since the king fell ill. He’s been more than happy to allow us to stew here. He doesn’t care about us.” Arya snorts.

“You know that’s not true Arya, what would Septa Mordane say?” Sansa retorts.

“Well if she was here, we would know now wouldn’t we?” Arya responds bitterly. “She never hesitates to let you know how good you are and how bad I am.”

“Maybe if you actually tried to listen to her, she might not be so hard on you Arya, did that ever cross your mind?” Sansa snaps.

His sister laughs then. “Why should I bother with doing that? Why do I even need to act like a lady? I won’t marry anyone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you will. It is a lady’s duty to marry and have children.” Sansa replies.

“Why though?” Bran asks, speaking then to prevent Arya from yelling at their sister. “Why should Arya have to marry if she does not want to?”

His eldest sister sighs then. “Because that is the way of things. A man is the lord, and a woman is the lady, she provides children and comfort and that is the way of things.”

Bran considers this and then looks at Arya. “Do you want to marry anyone?”

“Not as much as Sansa wants to marry that stupid prince. Why do you want to marry him anyway?” Arya asks.

“Because he is the crown prince, and because he has some charm in him. When he is not around you, he is actually quite nice.” Sansa replies.

Arya snorts, and Bran says. “You cannot seriously believe that still Sansa? Surely you know what he is now?”

His sister looks at him and merely responds. “I know that he is far nicer when he is not around Arya. He is more of a prince than when you are around Arya. I think he might like you more than he does me.”

Bran bursts out laughing at that. “Now that is funny.” Arya hits him then, but before he can retaliate, the door to their room flies open, and there standing before them is a member of the Kingsguard.

“Is everything okay Ser?” Sansa asks.

The knight, Bran is not sure what his name is, does not reply to Sansa’s question instead he merely says. “You are all to come with me to the throne room, King Joffrey wishes to speak with you.”

“The king is dead?” Bran asks

At the same time Arya says. “My sister asked you a question.”

The knight of the Kingsguard looks at Arya with something akin to disgust then. “The king has asked that you be dealt with girl. And as such I shall see to it.”

The man walks towards Arya, but Summer moves in front of him teeth bared. “What are you doing?” Bran asks.

“I am doing what the king has asked. Now call your mutt off of me.” the Kingsguard snaps.

“Where is our father?” Bran asks, his heart hammering.

“He is with the king.” the knight replies.

 _He is lying,_ the voice inside Bran whispers. “You’re lying. Why would our father allow you to come and get us and not bring us himself? Where is our father?”

“He is with the king now call your dog off of me.” the Kingsguard knight snaps.

“Not until you tell me where our father is.” Bran says.

“Bran….” Sansa warns.

But a split moment later, the Kingsguard knight moves forward only for Summer to leap at him, as the man screams, men wearing Lannister red storm into the room then their weapons drawn. “What is the meaning of this?” one of them asks.

Bran feels as if his head is about to explode. _Deception, lies and more lies, these men are not here for friendly reasons, get your sisters out and go._ The voice in his head screams, and Bran looks at his sisters and whispers. “Sansa and Arya get out of here now.”

Sansa hears him and says. “No, we aren’t going anywhere, not until we know what is happening.”

Bran feels a sense of anxiety go over him then. “No Sansa you don’t understand you two have to leave now, otherwise something bad is going to happen.”

“Oh no one is going anywhere unless it is to King Joffrey.” the big brute of a man in red says.

“Why? Where is our father?” Bran asks once more.

“He is with the king, now either come with us peacefully or we shall have to take you there.” the man responds.

Summer looks up from where he was feasting on the dead Kingsguard, whilst Lady moves forward then. “I don’t think you will Ser. Now where is our father?” Bran asks once more.

The man merely snorts then and says. “Get rid of the wolf and we can talk.”

Bran stands up then and his jaw juts out defiantly. “No.” He feels something behind him and then he hears someone a voice whisper in his ear.

“Tell the wolves to stand down and we do not need to make this bad.” the man says.

Bran feels cold steel press against him, and he knows that something is going to happen now. He takes a shivering breath and responds. “Summer, down boy.”

Summer moves back to the ground then, but he knows that there will be more to come. Lady does the same, and then the dagger is removed. Bran takes a deep breath and then turns round and hits the man in his groin. As the man goes down, the wolves spring out into action, and Bran yells. “Sansa and Arya get out of here now.” he screams and then there is chaos inside his mind, and he falls down, hands come to grab him and yellow hair is what he sees.


	27. Chapter 26: Dust and Bones

**7 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Eddard Stark**

His body ached, how the Lannisters had known what was to come he did not know, but he suspected that someone had betrayed them, him and Renly, who was now king. Ned did not know what to make of that, the Lord of Storm’s End was a good politician, but whether he had what it took to be king was another matter. But that did not matter now, with any luck Renly would have gotten away and would be heading toward Storm’s End now, preferably with Ned’s children. Ned knew he should have done more to take them out of the city beforehand, but there had been far too much going on, so much was happening now and he was not sure if he could stomach anything happening to his children. That was why he allowed himself to be dragged before the bastard and his mother, they looked smug, the bastard sat the throne, and others were there.

“Lord Stark, I see you have been introduced to what happens to those who conspire against the king.” Cersei says. Her voice filled with contempt.

Ned looks at her and replies. “I do not see a king on the throne, I merely see a pretender, and his mother who is trying to prevent the rightful king from sitting the throne.”

There is a murmur at this, and if he were so inclined to, Ned would smile. And yet, the boy on the throne snaps. “You are talking complete nonsense Stark. I am the king, my father’s will confirms this.” Ned looks at the boy incredulously as the whore produces a document and reads aloud.

“I, Robert of the House Baratheon, First of my name, King of the Andals, First men and the Rhoynar, Lord Protector of the Realm, do hereby confirm my son Joffrey of the House Baratheon as my heir and successor.”  The whore finishes reading and stops then, looking smugly at him.

“A forgery that is what that is. You have forged the king’s words to suit your own purposes.” Ned replies.

There is even more murmuring at this, but the Queen Dowager speaks then. “Really? And where is your proof Lord Stark? If you claim that this is a forgery, where is the actual will?”

Ned is silent a moment trying to remember where the will was kept, it was on his person but in the struggle that followed it could well have fallen out. “It is with King Renly, for it was he who was chosen as King Robert’s rightful heir.”

There are a lot of surprised gasps at this, but the boy on the throne merely says. “You lie Stark. Of course you would lie, you have never liked my mother or her family. And I am half Lannister. Where is Lord Renly? If he is the rightful king, why has he not come forward to put his claim?”

Ned can hear Cersei Lannister’s words coming out of her son and it sickens him somewhat. “From your silence and from what my brother Ser Jaime has told me, it seems that Lord Renly has fled. Only guilty men flee Lord Stark. If he were the rightful king as you claim, he would have tried to claim the throne, he would not have run.”

Ned looks at them both and responds. “You are treading on thin ground here boy. You have no rightful claim to that throne, not since King Robert disinherited you and your siblings. As well as Lord Stannis and Lady Shireen. Ser Barristan saw the will and will attest to that.”

There is more murmuring, but then it stops when Cersei speaks. “Ser Barristan died during the struggle, trying to prevent the foolish Lord of Storm’s End and his lover Ser Loras from leaving the capital. He knew who the true king was right until the end.”

Ned feels something akin to surprise fill him, but then he realises what this is. “You lie. Ser Barristan would never turn his cloak on the man he considered the rightful king, and he acknowledged King Renly as the rightful king shortly after King Robert’s death and after reading his will.”

“And there we have it my lords and ladies. This was coercion. It is well known that Stark and Renly Baratheon held no love for my family or for me and my children. They were trying to usurp my son’s rightful claim to the throne, and as such forced my husband into a corner, when my husband did not relent they began lying. And started the moment he died.” Cersei says. “The proof of this is found in Lord Renly’s flight, and the fact that Stark tried to resist when asked to come here. He is guilty.”

“You are lying, you are trying to keep a hold of power you have no right to.” Ned shouts.

There is a lot of murmuring at this, but then Cersei speaks. “Lord Baelish come forward if you would. Tell the court what you told me.”

Ned feels such hatred develop inside him when he sees Baelish walk forward then, a smug look on his face. “Lord Stark came to me some three days past, when it became apparent that King Robert was ailing, and he asked me to support him in a coup to place Lord Renly on the throne. Stark admitted that his hatred of Your Grace the Queen and your family was what was motivating him to do this.”

Ned goes to speak but feels something prevent him from rising. The court is filled with murmuring now, as people look at him and mutter. Cersei speaks then. “Your silence condemns you Stark. Ser Janos, you have the man’s children do you not?”

Ned feels his heart sink then when he sees the man nod and call forward four guards who bring forward Bran, and the boy’s injured direwolf. And then his heart sinks further when he sees Sansa there, her face bruised but she is otherwise unharmed. Cersei turns towards him then and says. “You have two choices Lord Stark, bend the knee and go back to that frozen wasteland you call a home, or die.”

 


	28. Chapter 27: Fight or Flight

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**7 th Month of 298 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Lord Robb Stark**

War was coming, Robb was sure of that, as sure of it as he was his love for his wife, the wife he had not seen for almost two moons now. Tywin Lannister continued to refuse to answer any letters sent to him asking what he was about. Reports were coming in of increased Lannister activity on the border with the Riverlands, and there had been some minor skirmishes between the border lands. Robb had told his uncle Edmure that perhaps calling the banners would be for the best, and his uncle was in the process of doing that. Robb of course knew he would need to move forward and lead his men from Harrenhal, but he would also need to return north soon, and that was the main topic of discussion with Jon and Tyrion.

“I must return north, should war come it will be necessary for such a thing to happen. I will not allow someone else to take command of the north’s forces.” Robb says. He sees his brother grimace then, but merely pushes that from his mind for now.

“And what of the men from Harrenhal? Who will lead them to Riverrun should Ser Edmure summon the banners?” Jon asks.

Robb considers this for a moment and then says. “I would ask that you lead them to Riverrun, but I know you will wish to come with me. Therefore, I might well ask Ser Edmure to bring his men here, or if not then I shall ask Ser Desmond to take nominal command until I return.”

His brother looks at him a moment and then says. “I could go north and call the banners, Robb. It is not that much of a problem I am still a son of Eddard Stark.”

Before Robb can respond, the dwarf speaks. “Ah but you are the bastard son. It is one thing for them to be summoned by a green boy who is the heir to Winterfell, another thing entirely for them to be called by a bastard. Who knows perhaps your father will prevent such a thing from having to happen.”

Robb nearly laughs at this, but before he can respond there is a knock on the door and Maester Hellion, the maester of Harrenhal enters. “Forgive me my lords, but a raven has come from the capital. I thought you might like to see it.”

Robb extends his hand and the maester places the letter in it. He reads it quickly and then curses, reads it again, and curses even louder. “What is it? What’s happened?” Jon asks his voice sounding worried.

Robb hands his brother the letter and then says. “King Robert is dead. It seems that whatever father was planning has failed. Joffrey Baratheon has written demanding I come to offer him fealty.”

Jon speaks then. “You cannot be considering going Robb? You know that the moment you set foot in King’s Landing, Joffrey will have you captured and thrown in the black cells?”

Robb looks at his brother a moment and then says. “You think he still remembers the duel? Or is it more the fact that he now has power to humiliate me?”

Tyrion speaks then. “Knowing my nephew, it is likely both. He remembers all sorts of petty things, and does not remember anything of use. He will try and use something against you.”

“Nothing is mentioned of father or Bran and the girls. Something does not seem right. Why is there no letter from father, or from any of them?” Robb muses. “Something has happened, and this letter is a ploy to lure us to King’s Landing under false pretences.”

“But what pretences? What else could the boy want to use against you Robb? You have not seen him since the royal party was at Winterfell.” Jon says.

Tyrion speaks then. “Joffrey will not need a reason, no doubt this is more my sister’s doing than his. It might well be her plan to remove you from the picture Lord Robb, and install Bran in as Lord of Winterfell, and perhaps your younger brother Rickon as Lord of Harrenhal. Two children there and disable your family from doing much of anything. Now I think of it, Robert’s decision in naming you Lord of Harrenhal might have been at her suggestion.”

Robb looks at the dwarf and thinks over this. “I can see why you might think that. She has put us under a difficult situation here should war break out now. I must go north as heir to Winterfell, but I cannot refuse to answer a summons to arms. A very clever move. Asking anyone else to call the banners would be a sign of weakness.”

“Then what do you intend to do Robb?” Jon asks.

Robb considers this for a moment and then says. “We must send men to Riverrun, we must ensure Ser Edmure is strong should Tywin come calling, which he no doubt will do. We have to ensure that the north is ready. I do think war is going to be coming, I just do not know when.”

Maester Hellion walks in once more, an apologetic expression on his face. Tyrion speaks then. “I think we might well be about to find out.”

Robb leans in when Hellion whispers in his ear. “There is something else my lord. A messenger from the capital. It seems that Lord Eddard has been placed under arrest and that Lord Brandon and Lady Sansa are being held captive subject to you coming south.”

Robb curses then and looks at Jon and Tyrion. “Father, Bran and Sansa are being held captive in King’s Landing, that was what that letter omitted. It seems that father’s plans backfired. If I do not go south I do not know what will happen to them.”

“What will you do?” Jon asks.

“Go south and you will most certainly die.” Tyrion responds.

“Oh I don’t intend to go south just yet. No, when I go south, I will go with an army, and this time, the hour of the wolf will see more deaths than ever.” Robb says grimly.


	29. Chapter 28: Three Eyed Wolf

**8 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Bran Stark**

Things were changing for Bran and his family now that King Robert was dead. Bran was not sure if he understood all of what was going on, but what he did understand was that father had done something bad, and as such was suffering for it in a black cell, Bran knew that father would not normally do something bad, and so whatever it was he had done, it must be terrible. He had tried to ask Sansa about it, but his sister did not know anything more than he did, and as such, she was of no use. He could not climb, ever since he had gotten his legs back, something in him had been scared of climbing, and so he was stuck in his room, stuck until today when he was summoned before the king and the court. He did not know why, but he had been summoned and so he went.

Bran bows before the throne, and sees Sansa there, standing beneath it, her head bowed as well. Lady is nowhere in sight, and Summer, well Summer is still injured. Bran shakes a moment and then holds himself still, he is a Stark, and he will act like one no matter how scared he is. “Brandon Stark, do you know why you have been summoned here today?”

Bran shakes his head and then says aloud. “No Your Grace I do not.”

“You are here to answer for the crimes of both your father Lord Eddard Stark, and eldest brother Robb Stark. Summons was sent out for your brother to come and swear fealty to the throne, and he has not done so. Your father is under arrest for making false accusations. What do you make of this Brandon?” the king asks.

Bran is stunned, he does not know how to react. He looks at Sansa, and his sister merely nods her head. He thinks for a moment and then says. “I do not know why my brother did not answer the summons Your Grace. I know that he has done wrong in avoiding the summons. As for my father, well I know my father must have done something very wrong for you to have him arrested.”

There is a murmuring at this, and the king merely smiles. “A good answer Brandon, and tell me where your loyalty is?”

Bran feels the urge to respond in a way that will anger the king, but the voice in his head says. _Do not be foolish Brandon, remember what happened when you climbed when you told mother you would not. These are the same people who pushed you. Remember what we agreed._ He wants to yell at the voice to shut up, but he knows the voice speaks sense so instead he says. “My loyalty is to the throne Your Grace.”

There is even more murmuring at this, and the king’s eyes seem to gleam then. Bran feels a moment of panic come over him then, as he worries that he has said the wrong thing, and yet the king’s voice is calm when he speaks. “Good, very good. And what would you do should your brother prove a traitor?”

Another question that has Bran screaming in protest, and yet the voice in his head speaks. _Tread carefully Brandon, do not forget the path we are on._ “I would side with you, Your Grace. You are the rightful king, any rebellion my brother instigates is wrong and without sufficient backing.”

There is even greater murmuring at this, and Bran wonders why. The murmuring stops at a word from the king and as the king looks at him once more, Bran gets a feeling that something bad is about to happen. “And you are solid in your beliefs? You are not going to change them as easily as your father and brother seem to have?”

Bran does not understand the question, and so looks at Sansa for guidance, but Sansa is merely staring at him, but he thinks she is not seeing him. “I would remain by your side Your Grace. You are the rightful king as King Robert’s eldest son and heir, there is nothing wrong with your claim.”

“Nothing wrong with my claim.” the king says aloud, and his tone makes Bran worry he has said something wrong. “Nothing wrong with my claim. The truth from the mouth of a babe. Let us see if Lord Stark agrees with that. Ser Janos bring him in.”

Bran hears a gasp spread across the court room, and he himself feels something akin to shock as his father is forced into the throne room. Father looks bloodied and bruised, and Bran feels anger stir within him to look at his father in this state. Father is left on the floor next to him, but Bran is left rooted to the spot, unable to move or speak. “Lord Stark, it seems your son has seen the error of your ways, and remembers the vows that his family swore to my father and family. Brandon, what do you have to say to your father?”

Bran wants to ask what is going on, but he knows that asking that would not be a smart move, so instead he remains silent a long time, the longer he remains silent, the more dangerous it seems the court is becoming. People are beginning to speak, the king looks as if he is becoming angrier, and Sansa, Sansa looks at him as if pleading for him to speak. Eventually he does speak. He looks at his father and then at the king and says. “I believe my father has committed a grave wrong to you Your Grace. I believe that you claim rightly the position of king as King Robert’s eldest son, and that those who oppose you are fools.”

The king claps his hands in delight at this, and looks at father and says. “Do you see Stark, even your own son refuses you? Now tell me, do you still wish to go through with your foolishness?”

Bran turns to look at his father, and his father merely looks at him and says. “I do.”


	30. Chapter 29: Prince Of The Blood

**8 th Month of 298 A.C. Pentos**

**King Viserys III Targaryen**

Viserys did not regret his decision to return to Pentos from that horde of horse fuckers that now had his sister. They were savages, and truth be told, Viserys did not believe they were ever going to fulfil their promise of helping him get his throne. He felt bad about leaving Dany with them though, they were not worthy of her, and he was determined that he would get her back before things got too far along. She was not with child, she had made sure of that, as had he, but the hunger for her was still there, luckily, he had one of the eggs, his birth right, he would keep it and ensure that it hatched one way or another. Now though, he had to meet with those people Illyrio had arranged for him to meet.

“Welcome to my humble abode for the time being. Your presence here is most welcome. Now tell me what it is you wish to speak with me about.” Viserys says as calmly as he can.

The first figure is a man with golden hair, and Viserys wonders at him. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us Your Grace. I am Ser Gerion Lannister, brother of the infamous Tywin Lannister. I am sure, you are wondering why I am here, and that is because I am here to make you an offer.”

Viserys looks at the man and wonders. “Why should I trust anything you say Lannister? Your family was one of the family’s that betrayed my family. If anything, I should have you killed.”

The Lannister knight looks at him and merely says. “You could, but then you would not know just how to bring my brother down. And I think that is something you would like to know.”

Viserys looks at the man once more and then looks at Illyrio and says. “What do you think magister? Should I listen to this man or kill him?”

The magister looks somewhat panicked, and then he says. “I believe you should hear him out Your Grace.”

Viserys turn back to the Lannister knight. “Very well, speak now and be quick about it. How can I bring down your brother?”

The Lannister knight smiles then. “Well, it is quite simple really Your Grace. Tywin’s main weakness is that he thinks too highly of himself and his legacy. Make it seem that he is not what he thinks he is, and he will lose support. Humiliate him and you shall have support. My brother has enemies, many, many enemies and the time is ripe for those to be exposed now.”

Viserys considers for a long time and then says. “So what you are saying is that the main way to bring down your brother is through having his enemies do the work for me? And who exactly are his enemies?”

“Dorne, the entirety of Dorne despises Tywin Lannister for what he ordered done to Princess Elia and her children. You need only reach out to them and they shall rally to your banner. Furthermore, there are enemies my brother has made in the West who could be of much use.” the Lannister knight says.

Viserys looks at the man and then says. “So, if I were to take you up on your offer, what would you want in return? And do not tell me nothing, for I am no fool, I know that people always want something.”

 

The Lannister knight smiles. “Apart from the chance to right a wrong that was committed a long time ago, I would wish for the Lordship of Casterly Rock. Tywin and his family have shown themselves incapable of ruling fairly and right. My brother Kevan is nothing but Tywin’s dog. It is time someone who knew the world ruled the Rock once more. That is all I ask.”

Viserys considers this. “I shall think on this and give you my answer in due time.” He pauses then, and looks at the other man sat next to Lannister and asks. “And now, I must ask, who are you?”

Silence and then. “I am a member of the clans of Crackclaw Point. I am Lucifer, and I have come to pledge the loyalty of the clans to Your Grace. I also come bearing information.”

Viserys nods, he is no fool, he knows the clans are an important ally to have, and as such their support is not one to be scoffed at. “I thank you for your offer of fealty. Now what information do you have?”

“The usurper Robert Baratheon is dead Your Grace. Poisoned by his own wife. His son sits the throne, but his illborn son sits the throne, and is facing more and more opposition by the day.” the man says.

Viserys feels something in him leap for joy at this. “That is very good my lord. Now tell me, who is opposing this boy who sits my throne?”

“Renly Baratheon, the king’s own uncle, as well as his other uncle Stannis Baratheon. Both have declared against him, stating him as no true king. The clans are seeking your permission to begin raiding the boy’s lands and to cause trouble.” the man responds.

Viserys immediately finds himself nodding agreement. “Of course, do what you need to, to ensure that the boy does not have it easy. I want him suffering, and the people of the crownlands calling out for me, do you understand?”

Lucifer bows his head. “Yes Your Grace, it shall be done.” the man pauses a moment and then says. “There is one more thing Your Grace.”

“What is it?” Viserys asks.

“I think you should take Ser Gerion’s offer, not because he is sitting here beside me, but because in doing so, there will be plenty of wealth at your disposal.” Lucifer says.

Viserys looks at the man, and then turns his attention to Ser Gerion and says. “This is true? You have power at your disposal.”

“Yes Sire. I do. I have a fleet waiting for me, nearby, and I know more about my brother than anyone else still living.” the knight responds.

Viserys considers this a moment and then looks at the magister and says. “Send word to the Dothraki, I want my sister back. It is time we moved forward. I am going to claim my throne.”


	31. Chapter 30: Black Wings of War

**8 th Month of 298 A.C. Tumblestone**

**Ser Edmure Tully**

The drums of war were sounding, there was division within the Riverlands, Edmure knew that, and yet he did not know how to change it. Some of the lords had not brought themselves or their men to Riverrun when the summons had gone out, and now, with Tywin Lannister’s host coming toward them things were going to get even more difficult. Scouts claimed there was some forty thousand men riding under the lion banner, and that it was becoming more and more apparent that blood was the only thing on the man’s mind. Edmure did not know how to cope with that, the battle that Piper and Vance had fought against Lannister’s army had been a massacre, Piper and Vance were both dead, and now things were coming toward him and Riverrun.

He watched the army coming toward them, it made sense to use Riverrun as a natural bastion of defence, but Edmure was not going to sit inside his castle and allow a siege to take place. He would not do that to the people, he had called the banners and he fully intended to use them. He watches as the lion comes closer toward him, he swallows, he is nervous, and he knows one wrong move here and all of this will end badly. The lions have more men than he does, but he knows this land, he will do what he can to make sure that they do not get out of this.

The horns sound and Edmure draws his sword, he spurs his horse forward, they start off at a light pace, and Edmure’s heart is racing, he knows that the time for play acting has gone, this is not some childhood game, this is real war, this is life and death, and now he knows he must work hard. His men are by his side now, and they ride toward the enemy, their banners coming closer and closer. Edmure roars a command and soon they are galloping toward the enemy, it is not time for doing things half-heartedly, it is time for full war, the crash begins and the war dance starts. Edmure swings his sword, and it connects with another person’s sword, and their dance goes. Swing, slash, parry, it all happens now, hacking, slashing, cutting through the throng, nerves are filling him now. His mind is shaking, but his hands are steady.

Chaos, it is all consuming, it pushes through the throng of battle, and it is battle. It seems that the lions are forcing the matter now, Edmure feels lost, he does not know where to turn, where to look, but he knows he cannot break, for he is the one who commands this host. If he breaks then the army shall break and Riverrun will be the target, he cannot allow that. His sword is swinging of its own accord, he does not really know how this is happening, he feels as if he is living someone else’s life, the sword goes, and takes one more man, one more person to meet the stranger. It is confusing and frightening, but on it goes, through the throng of war, through the chaos that is this battle. There is water flowing nearby, he knows something is happening, something is going wrong, but he does not understand what. He is not sure if he wants to understand.

His father would laugh at him, his father always laughs at him, but his father is ailing. His father would have wanted to lead this host himself, but death is creeping up on him with a forced hand. It is a sad state of affairs really, death is marching and they are struggling to stop it. Edmure does not want his father to die, he does not think he is ready to become Lord of Riverrun, there is much and more that he needs to do, and yet on they go, on and on they go. Battle, it is chaos, complete and utter chaos, men are throwing themselves at one another without ever truly thinking on what it is they are doing. His head is hurting, his body aches, and still they go. Bodies are growing more and more plentiful, Edmure thinks that soon enough they shall have to damn the Tumblestone.

His mind aches, there are men coming toward him and he does not know how to handle this, his sword is acting of its own accord, that happens and continues to happen, and yet there seems little to be done about it. Through they go, on and on, there is carnage and then there is death. Sweet death greets those who come too close to him. His men are pushing closer and closer toward the centre, where Edmure believes Tywin Lannister shall sit. He knows that the man will be watching all of this, and he means to bring the man down to his knees. Edmure wants to earn glory, he wants to make sure that his father is proud of him. He has grown up hearing of his father’s achievements as a commander, and he wants to earn his own stripes as a commander.

He is taken from his horse, thrown into chaos, on the ground he sweats and bleeds, he wonders if there will be something more to do, or whether or not this is the end. He gets up and stands shakily, his knees are weak, but he shall not die without a fight. Men come at him, charging, and he meets their challenge willingly, he crushes them, swinging his sword with all his might, the men fall to their deaths, and so he pushes forward. Determined to get to Tywin Lannister, and to end this war, he moves through the mud and the blood, it is weighing on him, but on he goes. Just as he gets close to where Lannister should be, he hears another horn and the sound of drums, the war is beginning and he has been trapped. 


	32. Chapter 31: March

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**8 th Month of 298 A.C. Moat Cailin**

**Lord Robb Stark**

His father and brother and sister were prisoners in King’s Landing, they did not know where Arya was, and his uncle Edmure had disappeared from the field of battle. Everything it seemed was going wrong for them, it was frustrating. Riverrun was under siege, and it was very possible that his uncle was dead. Robb had gotten very angry when the word had come of the battle, and well now, with the men of the north here, some eighteen thousand of them, he was approaching the first test in the quest to become a man. Commanding an army, he was acting Lord of Winterfell with his father in chains, and well he needed to figure out a way to win this war.

He looks at the lords gathered in the draft filled hall and says. “My lords, we must needs discuss the course of action we are to take. My father and siblings remain prisoners in King’s Landing, under a false king’s claim. Riverrun lies under siege, and some of the Riverlords remain aloof from the struggles of their liege lord. We must make a decision where to go. I would hear your thoughts.”

There is a moment’s silence and then The Greatjon speaks. “I say we go riding straight for King’s Landing. Tywin Lannister will not expect such a bold move, it will catch him off guard and as such that is why we should do it.”

There is a brief murmuring of agreement then, but then Lord Karstark speaks. “We would leave Tywin Lannister to our rear though, and whether or not he is an attacking commander is irrelevant here, he would be a fool not to push that advantage.”

“Ah, but why would he leave the siege of Riverrun? He must needs take that castle otherwise people will talk.” the Greatjon argues.

“Riverrun must needs be freed from siege, otherwise the Riverlords will not look kindly on us.” Lord Roose says.

“So we should waste northern lives on some castle that should really never have been placed under siege in the first place?” The Greatjon asks.

“Riverrun, must needs be freed because Lord Robb’s mother is a Tully by birth, and to not help family in their time of need would look bad all around.” Lord Roose responds.

Before the Greatjon can speak, Tyrion speaks. “I agree with Lord Roose. Riverrun must be freed, otherwise people will claim that you are fleeing from something. That you are afraid to meet my father in battle.”

There is some murmuring at this, but then the Greatjon speaks once more. “And how do we know that that is not some sort of plot Lannister?”

The dwarf laughs. “Because, I am not working with my father, I am trying to undo his work.”

“And that is one reason why I am hesitant to believe you Lannister.” The Greatjon responds. “It is one thing to say this, and it is quite another to actually do it. Why would you do it?”

Robb looks at the dwarf then, and sees a look of deep apprehension there. “Because my father is a monster who must be stopped. I will not allow him or my sister to ruin this kingdom anymore.”

A moment of silence and then Ser Wylis speaks. “This talk is all well and good, but there is one main thing that we must consider, and that is the fact that The Twins is the main crossing toward the Riverlands. If we are to free Riverrun, we shall need to cross there, and I do not think Lord Walder will be as amenable to allowing us to cross.”

“Lord Walder is an old man who is closer to dying than we might think.” Tyrion says. “I say we play on the divisions within that family.”

Robb looks at the man and says. “How exactly? We do not have sources within the twins that could allow such a thing to happen.”

“You might not, but I know people there. And regardless, money is often enough to make anyone turn their cloak.” Tyrion says.

Robb considers this a moment and then says. “I shall consider this, but of course money is not always going to be there, or be the key to winning this war. We shall cross the twins one way or another, but we shall need more support once we are in the Riverlands. Tywin Lannister is not going to give up without a fight, and I expect the fight shall be something of note.”

Lord Hornwood speaks then. “From what we know my lord, Lord Tywin has an army of some forty thousand men that is far more than what we have gathered here. Perhaps calling upon more men would be wise?”

Robb scoffs at this. “I will not wait and strain the resources of the north. It will take time for more men to come, we shall need a show of strength, a show of force in order to ensure that the Riverlords know to come when we come south.” He pauses a moment and then continues. “Furthermore, I do not think that Lord Tywin would keep all of his army at Riverrun. He will need to go to King’s Landing to take up his duties there as Hand, that is an opportunity we can take advantage of. Whoever, is left in charge, will not be as clear or good as him.”

“It will not be Ser Kevan,” Tyrion says. “I do believe my father will take him with him to King’s Landing. Therefore, I think it might well either be the Mountain or Ser Stafford left in command. Both are less capable commanders than either my father or uncle, and both are more prone to impulsive decisions.”

Robb considers this and then speaks. “That is good, but we cannot simply rely on the hope of this. We must act, and we must act soon. We shall ride out from here on the morrow, and make for the Twins.”

“And if Lord Walder proves to be unwilling to listen?” Lord Bolton asks.

Robb looks at the man and responds. “Then we shall have the twins torn down.”


	33. Chapter 32: A Queen Without A Name

**8 th Month of 298 A.C. Ashford**

**Lady Margaery Tyrell**

She had married Renly, not because she wanted to, but because it was the best way to ensure that she was safe. At least that was what they were putting about, there was no marriage, it was a sham, Renly was not a bad man, he had not tried to force her into anything, indeed, they had held something of a sham ceremony, to appease her father and that was that. Really, they were now planning on moving forward. Her father and his commanders had met them at Ashford, some sixty thousand men had come from the Reach, with more coming every day. Renly had brought some ten thousand hastily summoned men from the Stormlands, with more being left behind to defend the kingdom that was Renly’s power base. Her king was in a war council, but Margaery was left with her grandmother to discuss things.

“Rowan and Crane are most definitely going to be testing Renly during this meeting. I get the feeling they only came here for that.” Margaery says.

Her grandmother, the formidable Queen of Thorns snorts. “Rowan and Crane will be doing more than just testing him. They will be questioning his every move. They will want to make sure he knows what he is doing, and whether or not he truly is Robert Baratheon’s brother and heir. If he says the wrong thing, then they are going to leave.”

“They would truly do that?” Margaery asks surprised.

“Indeed they would. Rowan is a man who has his pride, and he has often chafed under our family’s rule. But he remains here for some loyalty or the other. Crane, well Crane is another matter, Crane will do what Crane thinks is best, and nothing more nothing less. If your father had any sense he would remain quiet.” Lady Olenna responds.

Margaery laughs. “I do not think remaining quiet is something that father knows how to do. But, Renly is the true king, as declared by King Robert before his death, neither Rowan nor Crane would be foolish enough to go against his orders surely?”

Her grandmother tuts with disapproval. “Come now Margaery, I have taught you better than that. Renly will need to prove himself first in an act of battle before he can move forward and claim kingship. Especially in the eyes of Rowan and Tarly.”

“And with the Florents loyalty being so questionable.” Margaery muses aloud. “Oh damnation, this feels wrong.”

Her grandmother takes her hand then and says. “Your wolf will not believe the talk of your marriage, do not worry sweetling. If he is as smart as you claim he is, he will not doubt your intentions. Renly is a Baratheon, they are known for their low cunning, but you are a Redwyne as well as a Tyrell, you have more cunning and resources than he does.”

“But Lord Paxter has remained neutral, for fear of his children.” Margaery says.

“That is what he has put about yes, but that does not mean he is not acting through his children.” Olenna says.

“You mean that Lord Paxter is using the twins to get information?” Margaery asks impressed.

“I mean that if he has any sense he will continue doing what we agreed. Those two are more use to us in King’s Landing then elsewhere. Furthermore, the more Paxter remains out of this war, the more Renly must rely on the ground forces to win this war.” grandmother responds. “He must use our strength and that of the north.”

Margaery realises what her grandmother is saying and she looks at her then and smiles. “You truly are too clever grandmother, truly you are.”

Her grandmother merely smiles. “Did you think I would allow you to suffer because of some Baratheon’s greed? No, of course not. Your wolf boy will soon know all of the truth, and if he has any brains he will know most of it already.”

Margaery considers this a moment and then asks. “What do you think the Florents are hoping to gain from this?”

Her grandmother is silent a long time and then finally she says. “I am not sure, but I do think they are a family we must keep under scrutiny. That they are here and the Hightowers remain neutral, makes me think there is more going on.”

Margaery considers this for a moment and then asks her grandmother. “Did you ever meet someone called Marwyn grandmother?”

Her grandmother pauses a moment and then says. “Marwyn the mage? Aye, I met him once or twice when I was young. Why?”

“I was just wondering, he came to Highgarden once when Robert was on the throne, and spoke about something or the other to Willas that had him determined to go to Oldtown. What do you think it might have been?” Margaery asks.

Her grandmother contemplates this for a moment and then responds. “I think it might have been something that has affected us all throughout Robert’s reign. The growing power of the lions and the corrupting influence of gold. Times are changing, but we must influence that change.”

Before Margaery can respond, the door to her room opens and Loras walks in looking angry. “What has happened?” Margaery asks immediately concerned.

“We are marching, but the king has decided to divide the host.” Her brother responds.

“Where?” Margaery asks.

“Some are going northward to end the siege of Riverrun, whilst other forces are marching toward King’s Landing. Renly wants to make things easy.” Loras replies.

“Is that not good then?” Margaery asks.

“It is and it is not. I am commanding the host to go northward toward Riverrun.” Loras responds.

“And Renly is leading the host toward King’s Landing?” Margaery surmises.

“Yes.” Her brother responds. “Rowan and Tarly bullied him into doing that. It is a sham really, we need more men.”

Margaery stands then and speaks to her brother. “We can only know what happens when we try Loras. Do not fear, Renly will be well protected.”


	34. Chapter 33: Master of Puppets

****

**8 th Month of 298 A.C. The Twins**

**Lord Robb Stark**

The Twins a relatively new castle, the Freys a relatively new house. Robb looked at the man sitting before him and he wanted to spit. He wanted to roar at this man to bow down before him and kiss his boots. This man who had reneged on his feudal duty, who had disobeyed his liege lord and a call to arms, who if the word was right had aided the Lannisters in the battle of Tumblestone. Robb looked at the man and found himself wanting to send Grey Wind to tear his throat out. And yet he remained patient, he looked at the man and allowed the man to look at him. The silence stretched on for what seemed an age and then the old man spoke.

“So you want to cross my bridge do you Stark?” Frey asks.

“I do my lord.” Robb responds.

“Lord of Harrenhal, and heir to Winterfell, and you want to cross the bridge.” Frey says.

“Yes. I do believe that is what I said to your son Ser Stevron, and I do believe it is my right to ask.” Robb responds.

“And why should I allow you to cross? By the word of the boy on the throne you are a traitor and should be treated as such.” Frey responds.

Robb sighs then and says. “I have eighteen thousand men outside, ready and waiting to act. If I wanted to I could tear down your castle.”

Frey laughs then. His laughter echoing through the silent hall. “And you would lose most of your men in the attempt. You northerners, never did learn that did you.”

Robb looks at the man and responds. “And you still think you are so secure in your place here. Your breeding habits are causing your house to bleed.”

“And what makes you say that Stark? Are you some sort of seer?” Frey sneers.

“No. But I have common sense. I know that such a big family lends itself to problems. You must be sagging under the weight of the number of family you have here. Let me take some that burden off of you, allow them to fight and they shall be less in number.” Robb says.

“So you would advise me to send out my family out there to fight in some war that might or might not be relevant and to die there. For easing the burden on me? Why, how very cold of you.” Frey says.

Robb shrugs. “I am merely saying what I think might be best. If you disagree with me, please do let me know.”

Frey looks at him then and his tone is one of derision. “I have seen off five Lords of Riverrun during the course of my life. I have hosted three kings during my time. And I have seen more Lords of Winterfell live and die than women have had orgasms. I have enough children here to sire an army. I control the twins and as such could hand you over to Tywin Lannister. And after all, your father is a traitor.”

Robb grits his teeth and then responds. “My father is not a traitor. The boy who sits the throne is not the rightful king, and he knows that.”

Walder Frey laughs then. “And where is your proof of this boy? Where the word of the former king, if this is the case, why has Lord Stark not put this forward? Why is it he remains silent whenever questioned?” Before Robb has the chance to respond, Frey continues. “Ah yes, it is because there is none. Your family has been living on borrowed time for a long time, and now that time is coming to an end.”

Robb quirks his eyebrow up at this. “And what are you talking about?”

“Oh you do not know of this?” Frey asks questioningly. “Well I suppose I should not be surprised, after all the Starks never did like thinking of themselves as the evil people, apart from Lord Edwyle, he was at least open to admitting that.”

“What are you talking about Frey?” Robb asks. “Have you gone delusional in your old age? What does my great-grandfather have to do with this?”

“Oh, well now I do think this must be something we speak about. You see, Lord Edwyle was a man willing to make enemies out of people his uncle had worked hard to turn into allies. And of course, he was well aware of what he came from, and he knew his claim was better. Why do you think Aegon the Fifth kept suffering from rebellions? Because Edwyle wanted his throne was determined to get what was his. The realm bled for your great grandsire’s ambitions. And now, well you have come south once more. And I want something.” Frey responds.

Robb feels shaken, his great-grandsire, responsible for the wars in Aegon’s reign? Robb does not know much about his great-grandsire, apart from some brief history of his regency, and now, well now he wonders if this was what his grandfather was planning as well. He masks his shock and says. “What is it you want?”

“I want a marriage. One of my many female descendants can be chosen by you and married to you. Furthermore, I want my son Olyvar to be taken on by you as a squire. And I want two of my great-grandchildren sent to foster in Winterfell.” Frey responds.

Robb considers this and then asks. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I shall condemn you as a traitor, and hand you over to Tywin Lannister.” Frey says.

“And how are you going to be able to do that Lord Walder? Tywin Lannister is many miles from here, and I have more men than you.” Robb responds.

Frey looks at him and merely smiles. “I have my ways Stark. I will give you time to consider the offer. You might leave now and consult with your commanders.”

Robb merely nods, and then walks out of the great hall, he continues walking his head whirring with the knowledge he has gained and the knowledge of Frey’s admitted treachery. He walks out Greywind following him, and then he mounts his horse and rides out. He greets his commanders, and looks at them, and says. “Frey is not going to side with us. Destroy the Twins.”


	35. Chapter 34: Winterfell Wolf

**9 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Bran Stark**

Father was dead, King Joffrey had had him executed on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor. Bran had stood there alongside Sansa, as the king had allowed father the chance to change his words on what he had claimed about Joffrey, and what he had said about Lord Renly, and then Joffrey had removed father’s head. Bran did not know what to make of that, he was still surprised, he knew on some level that what Joffrey had done was wrong, but overwhelmingly he knew what Joffrey had done was right. Father had lied and broken the law, and the king had the right to remove his life for that, and that was what the king had done. Bran was still not sure what to make of it, and he was scared, the king had asked to see him and he did not know why.

The king was sat on the iron throne, looking imperious, Sansa is there standing next to the throne, looking scared, the court was there as well. The king looks at him then and says. “Ah, Brandon, thank you for coming. You must forgive me for the early hour of this request. But word has just reached us of a most startling piece of news.”

Bran bows before the throne, Summer at his side, the direwolf somewhat cowed. “How might I be of service to you Your Grace?”

The king looks at him for a long moment, a smile playing on his face and then he says. “I would hear your thoughts on what happened with regards to your father.”

Bran takes a deep breath and then says. “My father was a traitor, he admitted as such Your Grace. You were well within your rights to do what you did.”

There is a murmur around the court, and Bran looks at the throne, where the king is smiling. “And what do you make of those who claim doing what I did where I did it was wrong?”

Bran takes a deep breath he knows he is facing a difficult ask there. “I believe that you did what you thought was right Your Grace. You are the king and your will is absolute and therefore, one should not question what you decide on doing.”

There is even more murmuring at this, but the king raises his hand and silences the court. “And what do you make of those who claim the gods are trying to harm us? Those who argue I should have you and your sister killed?”

 _You want to remain alive do you not boy?_ The voice in his head asks. _Then say what we rehearsed._ Bran takes a deep breath and then says. “I believe that it is your right to decide what to do with myself and my sister Your Grace. We are yours to command, and we shall abide by what you decide.”

The king stares at him then is expression unreadable. “You are aware that our grandfather, Lord Tywin is soon to be arriving here in King’s Landing, and that he shall take the post of hand?”

“Yes Your Grace.” Bran responds not sure what to make of this topic.

A brief look crosses the king’s face, but his voice is calm when he speaks. “We would say that our grandfather might look for some reason or the other, to use you for his own gain. And we say this before the court, so that they know this. But we would not allow you to fall into the hands of our grandsire. For he is an old man, who does not understand the power you have. We would offer you the hand of friendship.”

The court comes alive at this, murmuring and whispering, but Bran stares at the king and tries to find any hint that he is jesting. He cannot find any and so he lowers his head and says. “I am honoured Your Grace. Truly I am, for I am the son of a traitor. But I might ask, what has caused this?”

Bran looks at his sister then, and sees something akin to fear on her face, he does not know why, until he looks up at the throne and sees the king with a malicious look on his face. “Word has reached our ears of the siege of Riverrun, and the efforts of your traitor brother Robb Stark of Winterfell and Harrenhal, and how he defeated our army that besieged the castle. And it has come to our attention that your brother never did once reply to those letters asking for him to come to swear fealty.”

Bran does not need some voice in his head to tell him what to say, for he already knows what it is the king wishes to hear. “My brother is a traitor, he has refused to see your magnificence and so should suffer for it.”

The court begins murmuring even louder at this, until the king raises his hand and silence falls. Bran is greatly impressed at how powerful the king looks there on the throne. He has an aura about him, an aura that even father did not have. An aura that any king should have. He looks at the king and listens as he speaks. “You have spoken with conviction, we are convinced of this, and we would hear what our betrothed the Lady Sansa has to say on this matter.”

Bran watches as his sister walks forward to stand before the throne, she curtseys and then says. “I whole heartedly agree with my brother, Your Grace. Robb is a traitor who does not deserve your peace and love. It is for you to decide what fate our home gets now.”

The court murmurs once more, and then falls silence again when the king speaks. “Very well.” the king falls silent and then speaks once more. “After much consideration we do believe that the decision we have made is the right one. Before all of the court and the nobles, we would formally declare Robb Stark forfeit of his right to Winterfell and Harrenhal, and we would bestow them upon you Brandon Stark.”

Bran feels shock run through him, but he gets onto bended knee and says. “I humbly accept this most generous offer Your Grace.”


	36. Chapter 35: Storm King

****

**9 th Month of 298 A.C.  Grassy Vale**

**King Renly I Baratheon**

The march toward King’s Landing continued, Renly was happy to keep things sedate and peaceful for the time being. Let the boy in King’s Landing sweat about the oncoming army, let him worry about the fact that his food supplies were slowly being cut off because of this. Riverrun had been freed, Renly had never had any doubt that Robb Stark would see to that, that he had destroyed the Twins was something that Renly had not expected, the massacre of House Frey was sending waves throughout Westeros, and Renly knew that he was dealing with a man who was not to be messed with. That was why he was somewhat glad that the announcement of his wedding to Margaery had been sent with a letter confirming its falseness to the boy. He did not want to die before he sat the throne. Of course, he knew there would be other issues, and that was why he was discussing them with his lords now.

“The Twins have gone, they are nothing but rubble now. Riverrun has been freed from siege, and Stafford Lannister is retreating quickly back toward the Westerlands. Tywin Lannister has been made to look a fool. We have a chance here, but we cannot squander it. I would hear your thoughts my lords.” Renly says.

Lord Tyrell, who has been made all the sweeter, by the recalling of his son from the march toward Riverrun speaks then. “I think we should continue the march toward King’s Landing. Tywin Lannister might make it toward the city, or he might well march toward Harrenhal. There is nothing better than ensuring Robb Stark’s fortress is taken.”

Renly looks at the lord of Highgarden, and sighs. “What purpose would taking Harrenhal serve Lord Tywin. He must needs get to King’s Landing, for his grandson has made a mistake in executing Lord Stark, and now he must try and fix that mess. Harrenhal is just another burden for him.”

Tyrell looks offended then and says. “Harrenhal is a powerful seat, and it is one that offers a lot of prestige to those who hold it. Stark did not leave many men there to guard it. Lannister has more than enough men to take it.”

Renly looks at the man and wonders how he has not been removed yet. Shaking his head he merely responds. “Lannister is not fool enough to try such a thing. Had it been Lady Whent who was trying to keep the castle, then perhaps he might have done so. But because it is Stark, I do not think he will. He will march for King’s Landing and not stop until he is there.”

Lord Cafferen speaks then. “Then would it not be wise to send men to try and prevent him from getting there?”

Renly looks at the man and asks. “What do you have in mind my lord?”

Cafferen looks at him and says. “Send a force of men from here or from elsewhere within the Stormlands to harass part of his army, the baggage train perhaps. Cause enough hassle for him to be delayed entering King’s Landing. Do that, and things will become more heated.”

Renly looks at the man and responds. “An interesting suggesting, but one that does not have the realistic possibility of occurring. We already know that there is something happening within some parts of the Stormlands, I would not give Tywin Lannister the chance to come close toward taking any of my men from me.”

“Then you would simply allow him to march into King’s Landing untroubled?” Cafferen asks sounding surprised.

Renly shakes his head. “Not untroubled no. I have sent word to Riverrun as well as to Loras, they are to join forces and harass what parts of Tywin Lannister’s army they can. I do not want him having it easy.” he pauses a moment and then looks at Mace. “I trust the preventing of grain leaving the reach is still happening?”

Tyrell nods. “Of course Your Grace. Of course.”

“Good.” Renly responds. “I do not want anyone in King’s Landing getting anything more than what they deserve.”

“What will you do when you take the throne Your Grace?” Rowan asks.

Renly is not sure what to make of Rowan, on the one hand the man is a good commander, on the other, he does not like how the man always questions him, almost as if trying to figure out whether he is genuine or not. “I will right the wrongs that the lions have brought to this realm, and I shall see justice dealt.”

“Of course first you shall need to take the throne Your Grace.” Lord Tarly says, coming as always to his rescue. “And for that I have a suggestion.”

Renly looks at the man and says. “Do go on my lord.”

Tarly is silent a moment and then says. “Send word to Riverrun, instruct Lord Stark that he is to send men to march toward King’s Landing, to draw Tywin Lannister out in the open, or better yet the Kingslayer, when that is achieved, spring a trap.”

Renly looks at the man and then says. “Are you suggesting I divert Ser Loras and send him into a position where he can be of use?”

“No, I would keep Ser Loras on the pathway he is marching on now, instead I would encourage Lord Stark to move from Riverrun and make for Harrenhal. Tywin Lannister if he has any sense will ensure that someone is there, marching to meet. Take advantage of that and that is one less Lannister force needing dealt with.” Tarly says.

Renly considers this and then says. “Perhaps that is a wise decision. Though similar orders will be sent out to Stark soon enough. I do not want him becoming overtly confused. After all, his father has just died, and the time will come for him to grieve and to wreak revenge.”

There is a long silence then, and then there is a knock on the door and the maester for House Meadows enters and hands Renly a letter, he reads and says. “It seems my brother is petitioning the throne for Storm’s End.”


	37. Chapter 36: Grey, Shades of Grey

**9 th Month of 298 A.C. Riverrun**

**Lord Robb Stark**

The twins were a ruin, most of House Frey had died with their head, Lord Walder and most of his brood were gone, bones in the ground now. Robb had not taken pleasure from the act, but it had been necessary, necessary to ensure that none would dare question him again. And none had dare do so, only four members of House Frey were still alive, Lothar Frey, Perwyn Frey, Olyvar Frey who was Robb’s squire and Roslin Frey. They were there, left to their own devices, though Lothar had been taken on to serve as an advisor for Robb, he did not trust the man enough to leave him to his own devices. Then had come the battle of Riverrun, the Lannister army, had been destroyed, their commanders slaughtered, and now, well now Robb intended to finish what he had started.

“The Lannisters are breaking at the seams it would seem. Tywin Lannister is in King’s Landing, and yet, he will be looking at what has happened to two of his key allies and will be wondering what to do next. We must push forward on this, Ser Edmure how quickly can the Riverlords move forward?” Robb says.

His uncle who seems to be torn between refusing to answer, and somewhat trying to answer too quickly says. “Many of the Riverlords are here, they fought during the battle of the Tumblestone and the retreat back to Riverrun. I do think that we can move out very quickly. What are you thinking my lord?”

Robb looks at his uncle who bears the marks of his captivity relatively well considering what became of him, and then says. “I think the time has come for us to enter the Westerlands. Tywin Lannister will need to keep the boy on the throne in check, as well as make sure King Renly does not extend beyond his boundaries as he is at present. Whatever forces are within the Westerlands, are not organised, I say we take advantage of that.”

His uncle considers this a moment and then responds. “Are you suggesting a full scale invasion of the Westerlands then my lord?”

Robb nods. “Yes. I believe that is the only way we are going to be able to win this war. Invade the Westerlands, cut Tywin Lannister off from his main base of support, and bleed the Westerlands dry. See how quickly he will come to the negotiating table.”

There is a murmuring of appreciation then, but it is Jon and not Ser Edmure who speaks. “And what makes you think he will not just send in men to enact a harsher retaliation on the Riverlands?”

Robb sighs, Jon has been acting this way, ever since the Twins. It seems his brother was horrified by what was done, and whilst Robb does not like that it had to be done, he accepts it was necessary. “Tywin Lannister has an army near enough on his gates that he cannot think of coming toward us, or doing anything to the Riverlands. Furthermore, the lords of the crownlands we know are causing trouble, he will have far more pressing concerns, and will not be able to move out.”

“And if he does? What will you do then Robb?” Jon asks.

Robb stares at his brother, irritation growing within him. But before he can respond, Lord Tyrion speaks. “My father will want to come to aid the West, when he becomes aware of what is happening there, and yet, I know him. He will not want to leave King’s Landing without making sure it is exactly as it should be. And knowing my sister and nephew, I do not think he will be leaving for some time.”

Lord Bolton speaks then his voice no louder than a whisper. “I do believe we should leave some men here to make sure that when Tywin Lannister does come to the Riverlands, the riverlands is able to defend itself.”

Robb nods. “That will of course be done. I shall leave you with some three thousand men Lord Bolton, and Ser Edmure, you will do the same will you not?”

His uncle nods. “Yes, of course. I do not want to leave my people without a significant defence.”

Robb then turns the talk to other issues. “Now, we know that Joffrey the illborn has made a declaration regarding my brother Brandon. I would suggest that my brother only agreed to this declaration under the threat of his life, and is doing it to survive. I would suggest that efforts be made to begin bringing him away from King’s Landing with most haste.” He pauses a moment and then says. “That is why I want some men from Harrenhal and from the Riverlands to go off to King’s Landing under the banner of traitors and to make this move.”

There is a moment of silence and then Lord Bracken speaks. “I can offer some of my own men for this task. I know that it will look suspicious if people from Harrenhal are the only ones to go toward King’s Landing.”

Robb nods his thanks and then says. “Furthermore, we must also consider what will happen once we are in the Westerlands. There is a plentiful supply of gold and food there, and we must ensure that it is shared equally between us all, furthermore...” he pauses as the door opens and Maester Vyman walks into the room.

“Forgive me my lords, but a letter has come from Grassy Vale, from King Renly and I thought you might wish to see it.” the maester says.

The man hands the letter to Edmure, who reads it and curses. He hands the letter to Robb who reads it and then curses as well. “It would seem that our king wishes for us to be here, and prepared for when a Lannister host comes from King’s Landing, for it seems that his spies within the city have gotten hint of such a thing.”

There is a long silence and then Jon asks. “What will you do?”

Robb looks at his uncle who nods. “We shall send some men into the Westerlands, and then we shall prepare to meet this new host, and we shall destroy it.”


	38. Chapter 38: Snow

**9 th Month of 298 A.C. Riverrun**

**Jon Snow**

Jon was not sure what to make of the events of the past two moons. His father was dead, executed as a traitor, and Bran and Sansa had publicly denounced Robb for being a traitor. It was all too confusing and enraging. He knew that they had done what they had needed to do to survive, but really it still stung. What was worse, was the fact that Jon was not even sure he knew his own brother anymore. Robb had changed, something in him had changed, ever since they had learned of Lady Margaery’s marriage to King Renly, he had changed, and Jon was not sure if it was for the better. The massacre at the Twins were every man, woman and child apart from the four who survived were either killed or forced to flee, that was not the actions of the man Jon knew as his brother, nor was what had transpired at the battle for Riverrun. The screams of the dying men, they were keeping him up at night. The only thing that seemed vaguely normal anymore was his friendship with Tyrion.

“What’s the matter with you Snow? You seem oddly pre-occupied.” Tyrion asks.

Jon looks at the dwarf and then says. “I don’t know. But something about this whole war business is not sitting well with me. I do not know if it is because I am not used to the carnage that comes from the fighting, or if it is because of something else. But it just is not sitting well with me.”

Tyrion looks at him a moment and then says. “Well, perhaps it is because you are but a boy. Yes, I know you have fought in two battles, or rather one massacre and one battle, but such a thing does take some time to get used to. It will not be easy, nothing in war is easy and as such one must learn to grow accustomed to the swings and twists of fate.”

Jon looks at his friend and asks. “How do you cope with it?”

Tyrion smiles then, a sad smile. “I drink, and I whore. Ser Edmure is a rather good companion for such things. But then again I know you Snow, you won’t do such a thing, not at the risk of going against your father’s honour.”

Jon hears the slight mocking tone to his friend’s voice and merely responds. “I know what you think. But I will not give into the desire to do something I might regret. I will not father a bastard.”

His friend laughs then. “Ah but you are missing out one of life’s greatest pleasures. The feeling of a woman following some of the night’s drunken exploits. It is bliss, and it is a way to forget the troubles of the world. If only for a little while. Do you not want that?”

Jon looks at his friend and says. “I do not want to forget, I do not want to become Theon Greyjoy.”

“Ah, yes Theon Greyjoy. Do you know what your brother plans on doing with the heir to the Iron Islands?” Tyrion asks.

Jon considers this a moment and then says. “I do believe that if Theon continues on his drunken antics, he might well be shipped off to the wall or gelded. Robb has become even more severe since father died. Though I have heard that he might send him to the Iron Islands.”

“To get his father’s support?” Tyrion asks. “I do not think that would be a wise idea. Balon Greyjoy is far more likely to spit on any offer than accept it, that man has no common sense whatsoever.”

Jon smiles slightly and responds. “Not to make any offer, but to remove Balon and to place Theon as Lord of the Iron Islands. Robb it seems is convinced he can control Theon and make him do whatever he wants.”

Tyrion looks as if he is considering this, judging by the look on his face. Eventually he says. “That might just work. Greyjoy it seems was quite frustrated and angry to be left alone in Winterfell. He will likely do whatever it takes to prove himself to Lord Robb. That is something you could use to your advantage.”

Jon looks at his friend and asks. “What do you mean?”

“Greyjoy, is a boy who wants to find his place in the world. You do not like him, do not try and deny it, for I know you Jon, and you have made it quite clear through your actions that Greyjoy is not a friend. If you want Robb to take you seriously, you will make sure he puts Greyjoy into a harmful position.” Tyrion says.

Jon looks at his friend and asks. “Why though? Why should I do that?”

“Because, it is better to have the Iron Islands in chaos, to have a woman ruling them, than to have Greyjoy. Come now Jon, we both know who you come from truly, do not act surprised. If you want power, then you must use this course of action.” his friend responds.

Jon feels horrified by this. “Who said I wanted power? I just want to avenge my father, and to make sure that my siblings are safe.”

“Do you truly though Jon?” his friend asks. “I have seen the way you look at your brother, and the hunger with which you look at the power he has. You are as much a dragon as he, if not more so. Do not try and deny that.”

Jon looks at his friend and says. “And what is there to stop this from turning against me? Robb I am sure is not going to take kindly to this. After all he does not know the truth of where I am from.”

“And if he is truly your brother in more than blood he will not care, he will support you. Having you on the Seastone chair, would be far more beneficial than Greyjoy. Ironborn bend to dragons, they don’t like bending to a silken puppet.” Tyrion says.


	39. Chapter 38: Lannister

**10 th Month of 298 A.C. Somewhere in the Riverlands**

**Ser Jaime Lannister**

He was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard now that Ser Barristan had been dismissed, and really he was not sure what to think. This war had started because Stark and Renly Baratheon were unwilling to allow things to lie, and there was of course his nephew’s constant demands that war be given to those who opposed him. His nephew, was a fool, almost like Aerys, and that had gotten Jaime thinking. The mad king had said much and more when he had been about to die, and now Jaime wondered if there was more truth to the man’s ravings than he had first thought. Perhaps that was why Joffrey was so mad, and the others were not. He did not know, and truth be told he did not know why he cared. They were not his responsibility. His responsibility was to win this war, and to win this battle. Stark no doubt would be coming for him, and he intended to greet the boy with steel.

The Riverlands looked more secure than it should have done. His father had gone around burning the land and ensuring they were struggling, and yet somehow they were not. He did not know what had caused such a dramatic change in fortunes but he did know, that perhaps something else was about here. There was much and more going on that he did not understand, and yet he did not care. All he needed to do was win this battle and move on toward Riverrun.  If things were to go according to plan, Ser Edmure and Stark would be present at the battle, and that meant more chance for taking away one or both of the commanders of the army. They marched through the green fields turning them to dust and allowing the people of the Riverlands to leave and go. Jaime was not sure what to make of it all, but he found himself not caring.

The northern army, was the one they found first. The banner of the direwolf flying high in the sky, Jaime draws his men to a halt, and then waiting for a moment calls the men to charge. They begin advancing toward the northern army at a small pace, and then slowly begin moving toward them at a gallop. The northern army are moving toward them as well, Jaime feels his blood rush, the energy that always came with the battle was there now. On they rode, on they rode, through the fog of weariness, and through the dread that comes with the march of the stranger. Through the pains of life and hurt, on they ride. Jaime prepares for the collision, and when it comes he roars with delight. His lance is brought right into position and he uses it to knock one Northman after another out of their horses, allowing the general throng of chaos to engulf them.  He is looking for Stark, get to Stark, kill Stark and the northmen might well break.

His lance is soon replaced with a sword, his favoured weapon. He knows this sword like he knows how to breathe. On they ride, through the chaos and the carnage, Jaime swings his sword and begins the charge through it all. His sword begins to grow red with the blood of slain foes. He looks for the wolf that he knows Stark will have, somehow the boy’s brother’s wolf had been subdued, Jaime does not know how, nor does he quite care, but still he goes on. He roars commands and his men follow, the northmen and the rivermen might have more men, but he has a battle hungry host. He cuts through another Northman, and the search for Stark continues. This is quite strange, that Stark does not ride in the front of the field of war, unlike his father who was known to do so. Perhaps Stark is a coward, perhaps he is smarter than his father.

A wolf howls somewhere in the distance, and Jaime immediately decides that now is the time. He barks commands, and horns sound, the trap is set, on they ride, his horse galloping through the throng of battle, deciding that the time has come to bring this war to an end, Renly Baratheon cannot hope to hold the throne without Stark, for without Stark Tully will not support Baratheon. On he goes, his heart hammering within his chest, determined to bring the end about. He cuts through one man, and then another, watching them fall, as Stark comes closer and closer into view. He knows the trap has been successful for there are many bodies close by and Stark seems to be moving toward retreat. As Stark flees Jaime roars. “Come back here you coward!”

Jaime follows after the boy, incensed that the boy would rather flee than fight him. His sword raised he cuts down one man after another, probably guards posted to protect Stark’s flight. He cuts them down and chases after Stark, he can see something that looks like a direwolf in the corner of his eye, determined to reach it he rides hard. Through it all they go, pushing on and on, his sword drips red, his body aches, but he still goes on. He will not stop, not until Stark’s head rests on the floor beneath him.  More men are coming toward him, but he cannot see Stark, and that begins to worry him. What is happening, there are far too many men here, these men should be dead, had the trap been set properly these men would be dead, what is happening. His sword begins to slip, his grip is weakening, and his strength is faltering. Somewhere a wolf is howling and his mind begins to realise. He has fallen into a trap here, his sword falls, and he laughs, laughs and laughs, for he has been out done by a boy half his age. Oh it is funny this business of war, he falls from his horse still laughing, his vision filled with blond hair and a woman’s embrace.


	40. Chapter 39: Old Lion

**10 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

Things were not as they should have been. Allowing Cersei to rule in King’s Landing for as long as he had had been a mistake. She had allowed the boy to run amok, and now they were all suffering because of that.  Renly Baratheon was to their south, Robb Stark was to the west, and Jaime was a prisoner, his son, his son was a fool. He should have realised that, he should have known that from the beginning. And yet, he had always been somewhat blind towards Jaime, his golden son, and now, well Jaime might well be dead, if the confused reports coming out of the Riverlands were anything to be believed.  That was why he had summoned Cersei and Pycelle to the tower of the hand, to discuss something that had been weighing on his mind for some time.

“Jaime’s rashness has meant that we are now behind in this war. His foolishness has allowed Stark to gain an advantage as well as scatter our army. The way is now clear for him to march into the Westerlands and wreak havoc.” Tywin says.

“Surely he cannot be that secure in that? He has to deal with the consequences of his actions at the Twins surely?” Cersei responds.

Tywin sighs, his daughter is not as smart as her mother was. Joanna that is a wound that is still so sore. “The Riverlords are responding to his show of strength. The Twins and the lifting of the Siege of Riverrun, and now this battle have shown that Stark has some sense in his head. Had it not been for Eddard Stark’s death perhaps we could have negotiated a far fairer settlement. But alas that is not the case now.”

As expected, his daughter responds sharply. “I had no control over that. Joffrey acted of his own accord. I had thought he was going to allow Stark to take the black, but he made the decision and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

Tywin looks at his daughter in disdain. “And pray tell me why you could not have stopped it? You are the boy’s mother, you hold some power over things. Payne would have responded more to you than to him. Your weakness in that moment allowed Stark’s death, and now Stark’s son will not stop until we are all dead. That is a dangerous foe to have.”

“Surely that also means that he is more prone to making mistakes, as it will mean he is thinking about blood and not actually winning?” Cersei asks.

Tywin sighs once more, his daughter is an idiot, plain and simple, and how did he and Joanna produce such a child he does not know. “No, it means he will think about what he does, for he knows that every move he makes is guaranteed to ensure either defeat or victory. Such men do not make mistakes all that often.”

His daughter looks angry then and she snaps. “Well, how are we supposed to curtail that? He has Tyrion in his grasp if you do not remember father.”

Tywin looks at his daughter, fighting the urge to snap at her. “Yes, I am well aware of that. If Tyrion has any sense in his head, he shall use that to his advantage. Stark brought his bastard brother with him, and as such we can use that to exploit a weakness.”

“What weakness though father? From what our spies say, they are strong together, and nothing is getting past Stark.” Cersei responds.

Tywin snorts then. “And these reports are coming from Varys. That eunuch has more invested in lying to us than in telling us the truth to which we ask. It is time that he was removed from the capital and the small council. Furthermore, Jon Snow is a bastard, the time has come to exploit that.”

His daughter looks at him intrigued. “What do you have planned?”

“Tyrion might be with Stark, but that does not mean he is the only spy we have who is getting close toward Snow. Snow might well have his intentions broken down by the efforts of this war. Discontent with how his brother is running the war, will be very strong and I suppose he might consider other options. Furthermore, we do have his sister and brother here.” Tywin says.

His daughter smiles then. “Are you suggesting that we use them to tempt Snow away from his brother?”

Tywin if he could would smile, instead he says. “Most definitely. If Snow is like his father he will want to get his family back safe, and that is something we shall use.” He pauses, and then looks at Pycelle. “Send word to our informant within Riverrun, tell them to approach Snow, and to make the offer.”

The old maester nods and makes note of this, and then he says. “There has been word of the Iron Islands as well my lord.”

Tywin looks at the man and asks. “And what do they say?”

Pycelle swallows and then says. “Word has come from our sources there, and it seems Balon Greyjoy is planning something. An attack somewhere or the other, he has summoned his banners and it seems he is beginning the move toward sailing soon.”

“Where?” Tywin asks.

“The north my lord. It seems Greyjoy is intent on taking out his revenge for the death of his two sons on the son of Eddard Stark. He is not looking toward attacking the Westerlands, indeed, it seems he wants the crown’s approval.” Pycelle responds.

Tywin looks at the man and says. “I shall wait until the man sends a formal request for such approval, only then shall the crown give out the full permission required for such a thing. However, if he does invade the north, then there shall be no complaint from here.”

Cersei speaks then. “What of Joffrey? He has named Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell, he will not like that.”

Tywin regards his daughter coldly and responds. “He shall need to learn that there are some things in life that we must all do that we do not like.”

 


	41. Chapter 40: Difficult Conversations

**10 th Month of 298 A.C. Riverrun**

**Lord Robb Stark**

He was tired, so very tired, and he did not know when he would get a proper night’s sleep again. Tossing and turning through till the early hours had been his lot for some time now. He missed the warmth of his room in Winterfell, but he also knew that to give into the desire for sleep might well mean his end. He was not a fool, he knew that there were some lords amongst the northmen who were looking at him, and saw only a green boy who looked like a southerner, not like his father, not like Jon. He knew Jon would never consider going against him, but still he had to keep an eye on his brother, just to make sure. That was one of the reasons why, he had asked Jon to come and meet him in Riverrun’s godswood.

Robb looks at his brother and says. “We shall be moving into the Westerlands before the moon is out brother. I need to know that you will come with me, when the march begins.”

Jon looks at him surprised. “Of course I will come. Why would I not come?”

Robb runs a hand through his hair and laughs. “Well, I know you have not always supported my plans during war councils, and I did not know whether or not you would be willing to come west, when we both know our family is in the east.”

His brother blushes then and responds. “I had to make sure you were certain of what you were planning Robb. I did not mean any disrespect, but someone had to question you, surely you understand that?”

Robb laughs once more. “Aye, I know that well enough. And yet one might think Tyrion had been whispering in your ear about something or the other judging by how you were questioning me.”

“What do you mean by that?” his brother asks.

Robb looks at his brother and grins. “I know you have become good friends with the dwarf, and I know I asked that of you Jon. I am merely saying that there are those within our camp who believe the dwarf is trying to influence you for his own end.”

“And what do you think?” his brother asks.

Robb is silent a moment, as he watches Greywind and Ghost play fighting, and then he says. “I think that Tyrion is a clever man, but I also know you are as well. I just think that there are some things he might be saying to you that might not well be said in your best interest.”

“And what makes you say that?” Jon asks.

“I think his suggestion that you begin thinking of the islands, is something he is saying to create some tension between us. I know that you know your heritage, and I know that the Ironborn normally only respond to dragons, but we have someone that they might well want to respond to.” Robb responds.

“How do you know he suggest that?” Jon asks sounding surprised.

Robb looks at his brother and says. “I did not, not until just now. All I had heard was rumour, from someone the imp had slept with. She came to me, as I asked her to.”

“You paid someone to sleep with the Imp?” Jon asks. “Why?”

“Because the man is known for talking when drunk and when having sex. I needed to know exactly what it was he was planning, so I could devise a strategy to counter it.” Robb says.

“And you could not have just asked me?” Jon asks sounding hurt.

Robb looks at his brother and says. “I could have done, but then that would have alerted Tyrion to it. He might be your friend and he might well have given us some good advice, but he is still a Lannister, and we cannot trust Lannisters.”

“So are you going to be sending Theon off to the Iron Islands? Even though he might well turn traitor on us?” Jon asks.

Robb looks at his brother and says. “I will be, but not to Pyke. He shall be going to Harlaw. We have received a letter from Lord Harlaw asking for us to become allies, and as such Theon is essential to that.”

His brother looks at him then and asks. “Are you certain Harlaw is not merely playing you for a fool? He is Balon Greyjoy’s brother by marriage after all. This could well be a ploy to get Theon back to the Islands, in preparation for an attack.”

Robb runs a hand through his hair and then says. “I do not think Harlaw and Greyjoy are working together. From what our spies have said, it seems Greyjoy is working on his own, and there are some allies that Harlaw has gathered which have not mustered on Pyke. Whatever Greyjoy is planning, it seems he is doing it without his main bannerman.”

“I still do not think sending Theon is a good idea brother. What if he does turn traitor?” Jon asks.

“We need the ships of the Ironborn and we need them compliant. If we are to take Casterly Rock we must take it from both land and sea. We do not have the ships in the north, and the ships in the Riverlands are not built for war. They are the fleet we must have. Besides, what would you suggest instead?” Robb asks.

“I’d suggest concentrating on getting to King’s Landing and getting our brother and sister out of there before Joffrey does something we might both regret later.” Jon says.

Robb sighs. “It is not as easy as you think. King’s Landing is not easy to take, and King Renly is marching toward the city. We must trap Tywin between the hammer and the anvil, and we must make sure he is out before we try to take the city.”

“But then we are moving further away from the city than closer to it if we go west. How is that of any help?” Jon asks.

Robb feels frustration grow within him, but instead of snapping, he responds. “King Renly has his spies working on it. Trust me brother, our siblings will be safe soon.”


	42. Chapter 41: Baratheon Brothers Incorporated

**11 th Month of 298 A.C. Outside Storm’s End**

**King Renly I Baratheon**

His brother was a fool, claiming to have come to get Storm’s End as was his right, and now doing something else. Renly had never liked Stannis, had never trusted him, and had never understood why his brother had been so ready to abandon him after the rebellion. He had not wanted to be named Lord of Storm’s End, had thought Robert would give the castle to their brother, but no Robert had done as he was wont to do during his time, and had given it to Renly. Stannis being Stannis had taken offense at that and had refused to see Renly for some time after that, how else was he supposed to act now around this brother who had abandoned him? Renly looks at his brother now, sees the red woman by his side, and snorts.

“You have fallen far brother. To now consort with a woman of such ill repute. How desperate are you to try and win the throne?” Renly asks.

His brother grits his teeth and says. “I am here to claim what is rightfully mine. The Lordship of Storm’s End. Nothing more.”

Renly snorts once more. “Oh come now brother, we both know that is a lot of rubbish. You might have had Tywin Lannister believing you are doing him a service, but we both know the boy on the throne is not trueborn, nor are his siblings. You want the throne, but are not man enough to admit it.”

“Watch yourself Renly.” his brother warns.

“And what will you do? Your army is nothing, little over five thousand men. You cannot challenge me and win. Robert named me his heir, just as he named me Lord of Storm’s End. No one wants you was their king, or even their lord. Give up now and go home, I might just let you live.” Renly responds.

Stannis looks at him and snarls. “You are very confident for a man who has never fought a battle. Do you truly believe that the Tyrells will not turn on you if given the chance?”

Renly looks at his brother, and then looks at Loras whose hand his resting on his sword pommel. “Oh I am sure if the Lannisters gave them something more tempting they might look and think about it. But you see, I am married to Margaery Tyrell, and she is with child. Soon enough they will know where they stand. Your army is not enough to stop this.”

His brother snorts now. “You think anyone truly believes that child in your wife’s belly is yours? If she is even with child. I know you Renly, and I know you prefer Ser Loras than any whore. It was perhaps one of the few things I liked in you, that you were not as conceited as Robert.”

Renly feels something within him tense at this. “Really? One might have thought that the opposite was true. Considering your flight to Dragonstone so soon after the rebellion.”

His brother grits his teeth and says. “I did as I was ordered to by the king. I did not have time to stop and think about anything else.”

Renly laughs then. “Of course you did not. You never stop to think brother that is your problem, you simply do and never ask questions. You would never make a good king. I am surprised you were not killed the moment you went to Dragonstone and became its lord. How did you ever survive?” His brother’s mouth twitches then and Renly starts getting a suspicion. “Did you perchance use something that our brother always forbade us from doing Stannis? Mention who our grandmother was?”

His brother does not answer the question, instead he says. “You are wasting your time here Renly. You are a traitor, and as such must answer for your crime.”

Renly laughs once more. “And how am I the traitor. Robert proclaimed me his heir on his deathbed, the will was written and signed, and witnessed by myself, Lord Stark and Ser Barristan. His will is the law, and you are a man who follows the law, so then why the sudden change?”

His brother looks at him and then says. “And where is this will then? And where is Ser Barristan, if you are the rightful king why did he not come with you when you fled like a coward?”

Renly bristles at this and says. “I have the confirmation with me, you are welcome to read it if you wish brother. And as to me being called a coward, I do believe you were the one who fled like a coward the moment Jon Arryn died. What did you do to him? Kill him?”

His brother looks at him incredulously. “Have you lost your mind? Why would I want Jon Arryn dead?”

Renly looks at his brother, truly looks at him, he sees a scar that has long since festered between them, and he says. “Because we both know Jon Arryn was no good man. Despite what Robert wanted to believe, we both know Jon Arryn was a monster in disguise. And you brother, have never liked monsters.”

He stares at his brother, and his brother stares back.  He knows his brother is thinking the same thing he is, judging by the strained look on his face. A memory of rats, of crying, of bleeding, so much bleeding, the siege of Storm’s End was hard on all of them, his brother was there for them all, but now his brother is not here anymore, he is not the same man. His brother looks away first, and says. “This is different. You are a traitor, and you must pay for that. Surrender now, and I shall think of granting you clemency.”

“Ah so you are going for the throne? Surprising that, how quickly you have changed your tone.” Renly says laughingly.

“I am not jesting here Renly, bend the knee or die.” His brother responds.

Renly merely looks at his brother and says. “Then you might well have to prepare for death as well.”

His brother looks at him and says. “You have until sunrise tomorrow to consider this. After that, well time runs quickly.” His brother turns his horse and rides away.

Renly watches his brother ride away, and turns to Loras and says. “Prepare for war.”


	43. Chapter 42: Sound Of The Light Brigade

**11 th Month of 298 A.C. Outside Storm’s End**

**Stannis Baratheon**

He was a man without a title, it was strange really, he wanted Storm’s End, but he wanted the throne as well. He knew the truth about Joffrey and his other bastard born ilk, and yet he knew that outright claiming the throne would never do him any good. It was not something he would willingly admit, but it was what he had done. By saying he was wanting his rightful inheritance in Storm’s End, he was throwing off Tywin Lannister from his scent and dragging Renly from his calm march. Every inch of him rebelled against it, and yet his advisors had been right, Renly had come marching here, leaving a good part of his army behind. Stannis could see their banners in the moonlight, and he knew his brother might well win unless he did as the red witch asked.

“Your Grace, surely you must know that facing Renly Baratheon like this is not going to end well.” The red woman says. “It would be far easier to face him without his army, or perhaps to remove him all together.”

His onion knight protests. “That is the craven’s way of doing things. We cannot allow that to happen. Face him in open battle, defeat him in open battle and men will come to you willingly Your Grace. Do as this red woman is suggesting and they will not.”

“Facing Renly Baratheon and his army in the field tomorrow will spell the end of your hope Your Grace. The Lord of Light has shown me what will happen if you do as your onion knight wishes, and he has shown me what will happen if you do as I ask.” the red woman says.

“And why does your lord of light not show you how foolish what you are proposing is.” Ser Davos mocks.

“Because the Lord of Light does not deal with the whims of people, he is eternal, and he knows what to do when those who serve him are in need. Do as I ask Your Grace, and your brother’s armies will be yours.” the red woman says.

“Sire, surely you know that if you do what Lady Melisandre asks, your brother’s men will never do as you ask. They will never be your men.” Ser Davos says.

Stannis speaks then, forcing the words from his mouth. “They are not my men. If they were my men they would have come to me the moment Robert was dead. My brother claims to have been named heir, and yet the will is nowhere in sight, and Ser Barristan is missing. I believe, he has been playing Stark for a long time, and did so with the boy’s father as well.”

“So what will you do Sire?” Ser Davos asks.

Stannis looks at the Onion Knight, though Renly’s words play in his head. “The smart thing would be to use Lady Melisandre and to make sure my brother never rose again. And yet, he is my brother, and I will not become that which I most hate.”

“Even if it spares the lives of your men?” Lady Melisandre asks.

Stannis looks at her then, and responds. “What men? The men who have come here knowing that they might well die? Let them fight and do their duty, if they did not wish to fight they should not have come.”

“But that would have made them traitors would it not sire? For not answering your call to arms?” Ser Davos asks. “You would have labelled them as traitors and worked to remove them.”

If Stannis were a man to smile, he might smile at that, but he has not smiled, not since Jocelyn died. He looks at the onion knight and replies. “They would have been traitors for refusing to come to my summons. But I would at least know why they did not come before destroying them. These men who fight for Renly are knowingly traitors. My brother has offered them no proof of what he claims our brother did, and yet he continues and they continue to follow him. I can have no respect for them.”

Ser Davos looks lost then, and the Lady Melisandre whispers. “Then show them why they are wrong. Allow the Lord of Light to show these false knights and lords what happens when they turn from the path of truth.”

“Do that and you will only push them further away, not bring them closer to you Sire.” Ser Davos protests. “You do not have the men to be able to afford that.”

“And so long as Renly lives, I will not have the men. Tell me Ser Davos, do you think I can win in a fight between my army and my brother’s army?” Stannis asks.

“I believe so yes.” Ser Davos responds.

“Why?” Stannis asks genuinely curious.

“Because you have fought in war before, Lord Renly has not. You know Storm’s End, Renly Baratheon might know Storm’s End but he does not know the land. You do. You lived here as a boy and as a man, Renly only lived here as a boy. He does not know how to manoeuvre round the plains and the steep dirt. You do.” Ser Davos says.

“And what of those commanders who he has fighting for him? Lord Tarly, Mathis Rowan, Lord Cafferen, Lord Tarth, none of these men are fools. They know how to fight here, and they know how to win. Renly knows this, and he will use them.” Stannis responds.

Ser Davos looks lost then, as if he is giving up hope. “Do you truly want to kill your brother in such a manner? To kill one’s own flesh is a crime against the gods, but to do it in such a manner? Surely you do not want such a thing on your mind sire?”

Stannis looks at the onion knight, a memory floating through his mind of the siege of Storm’s End. That his brother has been close to the Tyrells has never made sense to him, does he forget what happened to them during the siege because of Mace Tyrell? Before he can speak though, he hears the sound of horns bellowing in the night, he walks from the tent and grabs a sentry. “What is happening?”

“Men Sire, Lord Renly is coming.” the man responds.

Stannis looks at both the woman and the man and says. “It seems my brother has made the choice for me. We march to war.”


	44. Chapter 43:  Old Hand

**12 th Month of 298 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

There was a cloud over King’s Landing, and that damned comet was not helping things. It was driving the people of the city into some sort of a frenzy, and if he were being honest with himself, Tywin was not sure what to make of it. He had long ago stopped believing in the gods, and now, well now he was not going to start believing in them again, too much had happened for him to ever put the fate of himself and those he cared about into hands of beings who never showed themselves. Of course the more news came from around the kingdoms the more he wondered at whether or not he had made the right choice all those years ago, sighing he looks around the council chamber and speaks.

“Robb Stark continues to raid the Westerlands, taking as he pleases, and having taken the Riverlords with him, it seems he is determined to try and push us into making a few rash decisions. Of course, this has meant that the Riverlands are now left somewhat vulnerable. And the time is arising that we might once more invade the Riverlands.” Tywin says.

“With what army? The Vale remains neutral through all of this, and furthermore, Renly Baratheon and his damned army are coming closer every day.” Cersei says.

Tywin fixes his daughter with a cold gaze, and says. “Varys if you would be so kind as to inform my daughter of what happened outside Storm’s End.”

The eunuch sniggers a moment and then responds. “Of course my lord hand. There was a battle outside Storm’s End between Renly and Stannis Baratheon. It seems their negotiations failed and as such they were scheduled to fight the next morning, but Renly decided to take things into his hands. He attacked Stannis’ camp at night. A fierce battle was fought but Stannis managed to escape back to Dragonstone with some five hundred men, broken and bruised.”

“And Renly?” Tywin hears his daughter ask. Her face is alive with the sort of joy that Tywin remembers seeing on Aerys face many times, it worries him.

“Lord Renly emerged unscathed through the fighting, but took occupation of Storm’s End with some pomp. Though it should be noted that the Florents did not take part in the fighting outside Storm’s End, indeed they did not even march with Renly to Storm’s End, remaining instead at either Ashford or Bitterbridge.” Varys responds.

Tywin nods and takes the lead from there. “As you can see, this clearly suggests that the Florents are not as in tune with Renly Baratheon and his sham of a campaign as their bitter rivals the Tyrells. They did not support Stannis, as one might have thought they did, that has therefore meant that they are not as secure in their position as one might think. It leaves things very interesting within the Reach.”

His daughter looks at him then and asks. “What are you proposing father?”

Tywin looks at his daughter and responds. “I am proposing that we make an offer to the Florents. They have long hungered for rulership of the Reach and of Highgarden. I suggest we make them an offer, they rally their allies who are numerous and we shall give them Highgarden and Wardenship of the Reach. Such an offer would be far too tempting for them to refuse.”

“And what is there to say that they do not betray us?” Cersei asks.

“The fact that they need us more than we need them. Their allies are numerous but without having someone to rally behind, they will falter and fail. They are in the Reach, we need only give them the offer and allow them to destroy each other, drawing Renly back into the Reach and away from the Stormlands.” Tywin says.

His daughter considers this and then asks. “And do we know what the situation for Renly is within the Stormlands?”

The eunuch speaks then. “Yes, the victory outside Storm’s End has won him some pride from the lords of the Stormlands, and yet if he were to hurry back to the Reach, well then they would see that as some blatant favouritism on his part and as such might be keen to revoke that.”

“Joffrey must be shown as a Baratheon as well as a Lannister. The banner he has is fine, but he must become more martial, and soon enough he shall need to make a visit to the Stormlands.” Tywin says.

“During this war?” Cersei exclaims. “He would die!”

“Not if the attention of the people is elsewhere, or if it seems as if he is coming to relieve the Stormlands from the reach.” Tywin responds calmly. “You forget, there is historical animosity between the Reach and the Stormlands. Get the Florents to draw Renly back to the Reach, and this will be shown. Joffrey can make use of that.”

His daughter considers this and then says. “And what of the Starks? What will you do there?”

“We must first make Robb Stark realise his mistake. He is in the West now, but he does not have a secure base within the north, nor does he have much left within the Riverlands. He will try to take the Rock and he will fail, and that will be his downfall. As for the two that are here, well, soon enough young Brandon shall claim his lordship, as for the girl, she shall be kept here for the time.” Tywin says.

Baelish the master of coin speaks then. “My lord hand, Your Grace, there was word from Ser Janos. It seems they found someone nearing Harrenhal during their patrols of the border lands. A direwolf was with the person, and was dealt with but not before Ser Janos lost many good men. As for the person, well it was a small girl, who Ser Janos says looked like Eddard Stark.”

Tywin looks at the man and asks. “Looked? The girl is not alive?”

Baelish shakes his head. “Unfortunately, the girl was killed during the struggle.”

“There is a body?” Tywin asks.

“Yes my lord hand.” Baelish responds.

Tywin considers this and then says. “Tell Ser Janos to dispose of it.”


	45. Chapter 44: Kraken

**12 th Month of 298 A.C. Harlaw**

**Theon Greyjoy**

It was strange being back on the Iron Islands and not being at home. Pyke, gods he had not been to Pyke since he was a boy, and now, now he was so close to seeing it, to being there once more, and he was not there. Robb had been quite direct about that, there was no going back to Pyke, not unless he was going there as Lord Reaper, and with his father still alive, and well that meant only one thing. Theon was not sure what to make of Robb, this Robb, the one who was Lord of two places, and the one who was a commander and a warrior, not the boy he had been. Theon did not know what to make of any of this. And now here was on Harlaw, meeting with his uncle as well as those lords who were like his uncle, determined to prevent his father from breaking the islands once more.

“Are you sure my father means to go to war once more?” Theon asks.

His uncle nods. “Aye, word has come from everywhere, the word has been sent. Balon means to go to war. And not only that, he means to go to war with the north.”

Theon looks at his uncle then and asks incredulously. “You cannot be serious? He means to go to war with the north? Why? Why would he do that?”

His uncle sighs. “Lord Eddard Stark is dead, and your father has long blamed him for the deaths of your older brothers Rodrik and Maron. The years have turned Balon into more of a fool than he was when he first rebelled. I think, he wants to gain some land and the north is the land he has set his sights on.”

Theon runs a hand through his hair then and says. “He’ll never be able to hold those lands. Robb has left a lot of men in the north in case something like this happened. Father cannot seriously think his expedition north would be a success? Surely taking the spoils of the west would be better?”

“You would think so. But Lord Balon has never had much sense. I do not mean to offend you for I know you care for your father Theon, but I am telling you now, your father does not care for you. You could have come back to the islands much sooner, you have been a man for many years, and yet he did not ask for you to return. Take that as you will, but know you do not have to be moved to the side.” Lord Harlaw says.

Theon looks at his uncle and asks. “What do you mean? What is my father planning?”

His uncle looks at him with a look of such sadness, Theon actually fears the words he is about to say. “Your father means to name your sister Asha his heir. He called the lords of the islands to recognise this decision, and most supported, more out of a sense of duty than any desire to actually see it done.”

“Does that mean they will support me should I choose to rebel?” Theon asks.

“Yes. They do not want a woman on the Seastone chair, and whilst Asha might be capable she is not a man, and now is not the time for questions. House Greyjoy is facing some serious difficulties and must have a man at the forefront.” his uncle responds.

“What difficulties?” Theon asks nervously.

“They are losing their hold over the islands. Most know Balon is growing frail, even your own mother is frail. Victarion is a soldier, and Euron has not been seen for years. Other houses are wanting power, and they are doing their bit to try and get it.” Ser Harras says speaking for the first time.

“So then why are you not trying to take power as well uncle?” Theon asks looking at his uncle. “The Harlaws are the most powerful house on the islands, if you went for power then you would get it. So why are you not doing that?”

His uncle snorts then and says. “Because, power is one thing, but holding it during war is another thing. House Greyjoy has ruled the islands for three hundred years, that is nothing to scoff at, nor is it something to remove.”

Theon considers this a moment, he would be lying if he said that becoming Lord Reaper did not appeal to him. It does, it truly does, and if his father is going to take it away from him, well then he will just have to make it his own. “Who will support me?” he asks.

His uncle is silent a moment and then responds. “All of House Harlaw shall. I have convened a meeting with the various branches and they have agreed to support you. I know that our sworn houses shall do the same. House Blacktyde and House Goodbrother shall support you as well. The might of the islands is coming to support you Theon, raise your standard and you will win.”

Theon considers this and then says. “And if I were to go about and do this, and say I succeed what then? What becomes of my father, of Asha?”

His uncle looks at him and responds. “Your father must die, that must be done. Asha will see sense, she is smart.”

“It is your uncles you must worry about.” Ser Harras says. “Victarion will follow Balon to the grave, but Aeron, he will do all he can to keep you out. As for Euron, well wherever he is, he might come and cause trouble.”

“I heard my uncle has become a priest.” Theon says looking at his uncle. “Is this true?”

“Yes. He is the leader of the drowned men. If things go badly, we will need to remove him.” Lord Rodrik says.

Theon considers this and then responds. “Very well, see it done. I shall do this, and this time there will be no mistakes. My father shall fall.”


	46. Chapter 45: Pain

**1 st Month of 299 A.C. The Crag**

**Jon Snow**

They were winning the war, the combined might of the north and the riverlands was proving to be far too much for the Westerlands, the lords of the west were either dead or had submitted before them, there had been some four battles before now, Oxcross where Greywind and Ghost had found a passageway that circumvented the Golden Tooth, Oxcross had been a slaughter, Lannister commanders were dead in their hundreds now. Then had come a battle at Sarsfield, where Robb had decided they needed to destroy whatever resistance remained from Oxcross more death. Then there had been the decision not to advance on Casterly Rock, but to divide the army. Ser Edmure and the Riverlords went raiding to the south, whilst Robb and the northmen went raiding to the north. That had seen Ashemark sacked and destroyed, followed by the Crag, where Robb had taken a small injury but was now better. War plans were being made, but Jon knew there was bad news, could tell by the look on his brother’s face and the pain inside of him.

“What is it brother?” Jon asks looking at his brother’s horrified expression.

“Sit down Jon.” Robb says his voice soft.

Jon sits down in the chair opposite his brother, and looks around the room, Rickard Karstark, Jon Umber, Roose Bolton and Wylis Manderly are all present.  The main commanders of the army are here, and Jon worries something bad has happened. “What is it Robb? What has happened?”

His brother looks pained and then says. “There was a letter from King’s Landing.” His brother hands him the letter, and Jon reads it with shaking hands and a shortened breath.

When he finishes reading he puts the letter down and looks at Robb. “They cannot be serious. Tell me you do not believe them brother?”

His brother swallows and says. “There have been two other letters from Bran and Sansa as well. They both say the same thing.”

Jon feels as if he has been punched in the gut. “But how? She got away, how could they kill her and Nymeria?”

Robb looks at him and says softly, his voice dead. “They had more men than Arya did, it was a simple deed. Kill Nymeria, and Arya never stood a chance.”

Jon looks at his brother in horror, as the realisation of the words sink in. His little sister is dead, killed by Lannister men. Before he can speak, Robb speaks. “My lords, leave us if you will.” Bolton, Karstark, Umber and Manderly all stand and leave the room, and then Robb looks at him and says. “Say it, I know you’re thinking it, just say it.”

Jon just stares at his brother and responds. “I do not know what to say. We could have rescued her, we should have sent men to rescue her. Why didn’t we?”

Robb looks at him then and says. “I do not know.”

Jon feels anger well inside of him now. “That is not good enough Robb. She was our sister, we should have done more to rescue her. To help her. Instead of simply allowing her to find her way back to us, we should have found her.”

His brother merely looks at him and says. “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you? Why didn’t you send men out there to find Arya? Why did you allow this to happen? I said this, I said that we should have sent men out to find her. She would still be alive if we had done that!” Jon snarls, his anger growing.

Robb does not even snap back at him instead he speaks as though dead. “I did not think they would kill her. I should have known Arya would not have the sense to go with them calmly.”

That infuriates Jon. “So is it her fault then?”

Robb stares at him then. “When a man is coming for you with a red hot iron, and you know that to resist him means death, what do you do?”

“You find a way to kill the man and get away.” Jon responds.

“And if you are a little girl who has never fought or killed before?” Robb asks.

Jon hesitates for a moment then, and then snaps. “You do what you must to survive. What has this got to do with anything?”

His brother says. “Arya’s death was a betrayal of the long held custom of taking hostages. If the Lannisters had any sense they would have taken her alive and made efforts to ensure she remained as such. Arya was always a strong willed girl, and she might not have helped herself, but she would have known that as well. This clearly shows that the Lannisters are breaking. We are winning this war, and they know it. Such actions to me seem as if Tywin Lannister cannot control his own men. He is losing power, and now is the time to strike.”

Jon looks at his brother and asks. “Strike? Strike where?”

Robb points at the map before them. “We have destroyed Ashemark, and the Crag is little more than a ruin. I have given the Westerlings three days to get their things together and leave, if they are not gone from here in three days then they shall die when their keep is destroyed. The Lannisters are not going to play fair, therefore neither are we. We shall ride from here to Nunn’s Deep and then to Pendric Hills, we shall take what loot we can and then destroy everything else. From there we march for the prize that will make Tywin Lannister sweat.”

Jon looks at his brother both terrified and impressed. “Casterly Rock?”

“Aye, we shall head first for Lannisport and then the Rock. We shall destroy whatever armies are there and take what Tywin Lannister holds most dear.” Robb responds.

Jon looks at his brother then and asks. “How are you able to think like this?”

Robb looks at him and Tully blue eyes meet Stark grey, and he replies. “Because if I thought about the true meaning of her death, I would not survive.”


	47. Chapter 46: Girl

**1 st Month of 299 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lady Sansa Stark**

Arya was dead, that very thought was enough to make her knees weak, she did not know what to think or how to feel. Arya, her sister, and the girl she had sometimes hated, and despised, but never would she have wanted her sister dead. And now, now Arya was gone, gone, dead and no longer to be here. Sansa mourned her sister, she wanted to cry, to scream, she wanted to kill the man who had ordered her death, and she wanted Joffrey dead. And yet she did not know how.  Bran was allowed Summer, and yet Lady was kept from her, she was only allowed to spend time with Lady during the day after her midday meal. She did not know why that was, but she did not recognise Bran, he was not the sweet boy he had once been. He did not speak with her anymore, spending all his time with King Joffrey, only Myrcella spent time with her, and it was with her that Sansa found herself with now.

“How are you doing Sansa?” Myrcella asks her voice filled with concern.

Sansa knows she should be on guard, but truly, she does not know whether she cares anymore. “I am hurting Cella, truly I am hurting. I do not know what to think anymore.”

The princess takes her hand then. “And what is it you think Sansa? Be truthful with me Sansa, you do not need to lie.”

Sansa looks at the princess and says. “I hate Joffrey, he is cruel and mean and he does not deserve the throne he sits on. But at the same time, I do not know how he has managed to bring Bran to be his most trusted ally, I do not understand it and it worries me.”

The princess looks at her, her expression sympathetic. “I know what it is to hate Joffrey. He is very cruel, but he has a way of making people not see that. I remember when you first came here, you were under his spell as well. It took time, but you saw the light. Brandon is only eight, it will take time before he sees the truth of my brother, but he will.”

Sansa looks at the princess. “How can you be so sure? Joffrey has Bran saying things that would make my mother weep, and my brothers rage if they could hear. How can you be so sure that he will see what Joffrey really is?” she asks doubtfully.

The princess sighs then. “Because Joffrey has a habit of making enemies of those that he really needs as allies. He did it to you, and he will do it to your brother. Even me his own sister, does not like him or love him. He has the habit of doing things that destroy all elements of trust in him. You see how the kingdoms rebel against him? Only my grandfather and the lords of the crownlands are fighting for him, and one is fighting more for my grandfather, and the other fights only because they have to. He will not last.”

“But then why has Bran not come to know him for what he is? When I was with him, he always showed signs, and now, well now I know what I am looking for.” Sansa says.

“Because he is but a boy. He does not know who or what to believe. He does what he was told by your father, and I do believe he thinks Joffrey is the rightful king, otherwise he would not have gone with this. There is no other reason for it.” Myrcella says.

Sansa sighs, the princess does not speak wrongly, but this is something that Sansa does not want to hear, and so instead she asks. “Do you know what Joffrey intends to do with me? My brothers are traitors, does he still intend to wed me?”

The princess considers this. “I believe my mother wants that betrothal put to an end, but my grandfather is adamant that it still go ahead. And knowing Joffrey as I do, I think it will most definitely happen, the moment you flower, is when they will wed you to him.”

Sansa stiffens then, the image of bloodied sheets flash before her eyes, and she remembers the pain, but she does not remember how such a thing did not result in her being brought before the hand, or even Joffrey. She looks at the princess and whispers. “I think that might be a problem.”

The princess says nothing for a moment and then she asks. “Have you bled then?” Sansa nods mutely. A moment silence and then the princess speaks. “Next time this happens, come to me.”

Sansa looks at the princess and asks. “Why? Will that not put you in danger as well?”

The princess merely laughs at that. “My brother will not do anything to harm me, not with my grandfather here. And besides, my grandfather might be more amenable to something I say to him than my mother. It is time for us to start getting our own back at Joffrey.”

Intrigued by this Sansa asks. “What do you have planned princess? And how do we know that this will not go against us?”

The Princess smiles and says. “It is time we get revenge, and it is time we take advantage of the chaos within the realm Sansa. My grandfather might not see it just yet, but Joffrey is doomed, Tommen is far the better candidate for the throne. The time has come for us to move from here.”

As the princess’s words sink in Sansa looks at her and asks. “Do you mean what I think you mean Cella?”

The princess nods. “Yes, I think it is time we begin planning our escape from King’s Landing. Better to leave the city before it goes up in flames.”

Sansa looks at the princess, and for the first time since her father’s death, she feels hope bloom within her.

 


	48. Chapter 47: Fox

**2 nd Month of 299 A.C. Brightwater Keep**

**Lord Alester Florent**

It had been far too easy, leaving the rest of the army that that fat fool Mace Tyrell had left to defend the border with the Stormlands. Alester had taken his ten thousand men and ridden back to Brightwater Keep with some haste, telling the man left in charge by Renly that he had been alerted of some trouble in his own lands, and the fool had bought it. And now, well now Renly Baratheon was in the Stormlands and was likely to remain there for some time, the Lords of the Stormlands would need to see their king, and that was something Alester was planning on taking advantage of. He would not sit idly by, whilst this opportunity passed by, he was not his father, he had learned from the mistakes of the rebellion and now, well now he was going to make sure that he took advantage of everything.

Alester takes a breath and then speaks. “My lords, thank you all for coming. It has been an interesting few moons since we broke from the throne and declared for Renly Baratheon. Some might wonder if we had made the right choice in doing so. I admit, that there have been times during the boy’s campaign where I have felt as if his indecisiveness will cost us all dearly. I do not think the time is right for him to sit the throne, and indeed I do not think declaring for his brother Stannis is the right thing to do either. And this is full well knowing that the man is married to my niece.”

Lord Waryn Beesbury, Lord of Honeyholt looks at him then and asks. “So what are you suggesting Florent? If not Renly, and not Stannis then who? Surely you cannot mean to declare for Joffrey?”

Before Alester can respond, Lord Osgrey speaks. “Why are you avoiding declaring for Stannis Alester? Surely he would be the safest option for you, knowing that you have family ties to him?”

Alester considers both men’s questions before replying. “Stannis was defeated outside of Storm’s End he has little more than five hundred men with him. And whilst yes, the prospect of seeing a Florent as queen is an enticing one, she is not of my line and I do not hold any affection for her. Furthermore, her husband has fallen prey to that red whore of his, and I do not wish to alienate the High Septon by allying with him.”

“Then who would you declare for Lord Florent?” Beesbury asks.

Florent considers this question and then responds. “I would declare for the person I know to be secure of getting support. Someone who has the true and rightful claim to the throne. Someone who should never have been forced to leave Westeros in the first place, and someone who must always be here.”

A moment’s silence and then Osgrey speaks. “You mean to declare for a Targaryen? The one across the sea? Why?”

Alester looks at the man and says. “Look at what has happened since the Targaryens were removed from power. Corruption and greed has decimated the realm, we are left with a boy who might not be trueborn, a man who is too stubborn to realise when he is beaten, and a man who will never sire an heir. The Baratheons have proven to be more inept than even the Blackfyres, and they never sat the throne. The realm must be healed and the Targaryens are the only ones who can do that.”

Florent thanks the seven that Osgrey is not a Blackfyre loyalist anymore, for that would have been a most grave a sin. “It is all well and good saying that you mean to bring peace and stability back to the realm through this action Alester. But tell me, what do you know of the Targaryen you mean to declare for? Is he not as mad as his father?”

“Those were rumours the usurper put about to discredit him and to prevent anyone from actively seeking him out. I have it from a reliable source that he is not as far gone as those rumours would have you believe my lord.” Alester responds.

Lord Waryn speaks then. “It is easy to see what the benefits to you would be of fighting to place the Targaryens back on the throne, but what would we gain from this?”

Alester holds himself back from rolling his eyes, it sometimes amazes him just how short sighted some people can be. “Help me place the Targaryens back on the throne, and when King Viserys sits the throne, I will make sure he knows of your service. You will be promoted to the higher rungs of the Reach, and those who were once scoffing at you shall bow down before you.”

There is a long silence and then Lord Osgrey speaks. “This is all well and good my lord, but do we know whether or not Targaryen has the means for crossing the sea and coming toward claiming his throne?”

Alester hesitates then, not sure of how much to say or how much too in fact reveal about all he knows, finally he says. “I know that he has the means to get across, but he will not cross until such a time as he is convinced that there are those willing to rise for him.”

Another silence follows this, and then finally Lord Waryn speaks. “Very well, and so if we declare for him, we shall be promoted more so than under Renly. But what of Tywin Lannister? The man will think we are fighting for him, for he cannot tell when an enemy becomes a friend, but is in fact still an enemy. What do we send to him?”

Alester considers this a moment and then says. “Tywin is losing the war, the Stark boy is crushing him within the Westerlands, and he is stuck between wanting to go there and needing to hold King’s Landing. We make sure that Renly has to come back south, and we give him his head.”


	49. Chapter 48: War Machine

**2 nd Month of 299 A.C. Pendric Hills**

**Lord Robb Stark**

Arya was dead, that thought haunted him more than he would ever admit to anyone. His little sister was gone, she was with their father wherever people went when they died. Guilt weighed heavily on him, he knew he should have done more to get her to safety, that he should have done as Jon had suggested and sent a party to find her and bring her to Riverrun or perhaps Harrenhal. Robb knows that he will curse his indecision for the rest of his days, but he also knows that dwelling on it now, when they have a battle to fight is not the smartest of things. He knows Jon is sticking by him, because of Arya, because he wants revenge just as much as Robb does, and Robb knows that perhaps the time is coming for them to discuss what to do.

The sound of a horn draws him from his reverie. He shakes his head pulls down his helm, and then feels a chill flow through him as Greywind and Ghost howl. The call of wolves, a primal sound, deep and filled with anger. Robb knows that following the destruction of Nunn’s Deep they are now moving closer toward breaking the power of the Lannisters. His uncle Ser Edmure and the Riverlords have been ravaging the southern Westerlands. Now is the time to ensure that those who are coming toward them are destroyed. Another army that can be broken, one step closer to avenging father and Arya. His blood is pumping through his veins, he feels it and with one fell motion he draws his sword and roars his command.

He leads the charge, his horse and his direwolf running through the slopes of early snow as his heart hammers. The enemy is in sight, Robb feels the collision and laughs as his sword cuts through one man, and then another, and another. Through the carnage they go, cutting, slashing and hacking. A most primal thing this, the urge to continue onward, pushing through, the image of his father and his sister floats through his mind, giving him a much needed savagery in his act. His sword sings as it cuts through lance and other weapons. These southerners with their lances, he laughs at them, he knows there is nothing half as good as a sword to deal with a lance. Through it all they go, running, charging, and his men at his side, Jon on his right, slashing and cutting. The brothers’ wolf, all through, wreaking havoc on the westermen and making them fear their coming.

The westermen are led by someone who Robb does not know, whether this man is of any importance he does not know, all he knows is that defeating this man and then taking what loot they can is one more blow toward Tywin Lannister. It will not bring Arya back, but perhaps in doing this, they can hurt the man who loves his gold, just as much as Robb is hurting now. He cuts his way through the army of westermen, Greywind snarling and tearing his way through. Jon is at his side, his guard are there as well, fierce and protective as always. Robb roars a command and the rest of the northern army come pouring through. The trap, these westermen never learn. He laughs at that, and kills one more man as the slaughter begins in earnest.

The charge is a hard one, the Pendric Hills are some of the toughest, Robb has ever encountered. He knows though that sooner or later they shall need to completely burn them down. It seems a shame to him, but he knows that it is necessary, they cannot allow the Westerlands to gain power once more. And so, he barks his commands, and takes action. Men fall to their deaths, Robb cuts through the men who come into his path. Slashing, hacking, cutting, doing all that he can to make sure they do not gain too much power or prominence. It seems to be working well enough, for already the sizeable Westerlands army that had been coming is now reduced.

“Onward, we push onward.” Robb roars as rain begins to fall, the westermen are coming closer and closer now. He can smell victory, he can sense it. Blood is running freely down the mountain, the time is coming. His sword rises high into the air and comes swinging down in a free arc, breaking one man in half, and another who falls down pleading for mercy. The man is soon killed in the stampede of war. Robb laughs and pushes onward, the time to break through their defences is here. “Light the torches.” he roars, and the command is passed down the army, and soon enough the torches are being lit and thrown at the oncoming Westerlands army.

Fire, its red brightness is intoxicating and it engulfs those before it. Robb calls his army to a halt, allowing them to watch as the flames engulf those westermen who are stuck on the other side of the hill. As the flame begins falling down the slope of the hill, the screams of the dying men reach Robb and his men. He watches all of this through the slit of his helm, and when it seems as though the flames will die out, he orders more torches lit and thrown. Rain is falling lightly, but it does nothing to disrupt the power of the fire that he has started. The screams of the dying echo in his ears, but all he can think of is revenge for Arya. Soon enough they shall take the Rock, and then Tywin Lannister shall know true pain.

He continues watching as the flames engulf the army of the enemy. He watches and watches, and then when he has seen enough he turns to his brother and says. “We are done here, take what plunder there is available. We ride out now.” His brother nods, and Robb turns his horse away from the scene before them. His job is done here for now, it is on to greater things now.


	50. Chapter 49: Blackfish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who suffered in Paris last night, as well as the victims of attacks in Beirut, Baghdad, India, Japan and Mexico, my thoughts are with you and your families. Stay strong, and stay safe.

****

**3 rd Month of 299 A.C. The Eyrie**

**Ser Brynden Tully**

He was old, he was old, and that was one thought that would never leave his mind. The Blackfish, the man who had fought death more times than he could remember was old. Hoster would laugh at that, his brother so strong was dying, Brynden missed his older brother, and yet pride had kept him away all this time. He regretted that, regretted not being able to say the things he wished he could have said, the apologies he could have put words to, the embraces he could have shared with his brother. Too many regrets, and too little time, and now, well now his home was under threat, and his niece was not willing to allow them to leave and fight, and he would not have it anymore.

Brynden looks at his niece and says. “Lysa, surely you do not think that the Lannisters will simply forget about you if you remain here? It was your accusations that sent Lord Eddard down to King’s Landing in the first place. What do you think it looks like now, then if you do not act?”

His niece merely sniffs. “I do not care. I will not endanger Sweetrobin or anyone else by sending men out to die for something I do not believe in.”

Brynden feels anger begin to grow inside of him. “So you do not believe that your Goodbrother needs to be avenged? That the destruction being done to the Riverlands does not need to be responded to? That your father does not need protecting?”

“Edmure is there, if Edmure had not taken his army to the Westerlands, then perhaps father would not be in such dire need of protection. Anyway, what do you care? You and father have not spoken since the end of the rebellion.” Lysa says.

“And I regret that more and more and with every passing day. Lysa, please child, your father needs you. He needs the men of the Vale. Your nephew needs you, he cannot win this war on his own. Tywin Lannister will come calling sooner rather than later. And when he does, the might of the Vale would help serve to protect the riverlands. Or do you want more innocents to die?” Brynden asks.

His niece looks at him then and scowling responds. “The Riverlands, never did anything for me. When I was alone and scared, they never once thought to ask whether I was alright. They merely assumed that I was. Only Petyr was there to help me, Petyr with his kind words and actions. Not even you bothered to ask me how I was uncle.” His niece pauses a moment her eyes wide. “And why should I have expected anything different, after all, you all preferred Cat. It was always Cat that you people preferred. I was just the child who was there.”

Brynden can hear the raw pain in his niece’s voice and feels something sink within him. _Gods Minisa, I am sorry._ “You know that is not true Lysa. I was always there for all of you. I was there when you hurt yourself, when you wanted someone to speak to, someone to play with, I was always there.”

“No you weren’t. You were always there for Cat. You never once spoke for me when father was angry. Especially not after that foolish duel. I was just someone who was there to be seen and never heard. I know I was.” Lysa shouts.

Brynden looks around and sees servants stopped outside of the throne room, he merely looks at them and they walk on. He turns back to look at his niece. “Stop acting the child Lysa. You know you are speaking nonsense. Baelish was not good for you. He was a leech who was only trying to use you to get to somewhere he would never have gotten to on his own.”

“And what gives you the right to say that? You do not know Petyr like I do! You do not know what it was like being alone here, and in Riverrun. Knowing that father was fighting to come back for Cat, not for me, never for me, only for her and for Edmure.” Lysa sobs. “What did I ever do wrong that father could never look at me? Was it because I was born a girl and not a boy? A second girl, a burden for the great Hoster Tully?”

Brynden feels his heart ache for his niece, and anger comes to the fore once more to himself and to Hoster, he takes a deep breath then and responds. “You know that is not true Lysa. Your father loves you very much, he did only what he thought was right.”

“Then why did he force me to marry Jon Arryn? Why could he not allow me to marry Petyr? I would have been far happier with Petyr than I ever was with Jon Arryn.” Lysa screams.

Brynden looks at his niece then and says. “Do you truly believe that Lysa? For if you do, then you are far too gone for me to ever be able to help you. Petyr was not someone you ever cared for before the duel happened. Not truly, I know that for the truth, for you told me yourself on many occasions. Do not forget what he did to you Lysa. Please, I beg of you.”

For a long moment he fears his niece will simply reject what he says, and as the silence stretches on the fear intensifies, but then she sighs and says. “What am I to do uncle? I know what Petyr wants, and I know what I should do. But what do I do for my son? I cannot do anything to harm him. Please uncle help me.”

Brynden feels his heart ache once more, and he moves towards the throne, where his niece stands and runs to his arms as she did when she was a little girl. He whispers into her air. “I will help you, I promise sweetling. But we must first help Hoster, we must take action.”

“Then we shall. For Edmure, and for Cat. For Lord Eddard, we shall.” his niece whispers into his chest.


	51. Chapter 50: Young Wolf

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**3 rd Month of 299 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Brandon Stark**

He was Lord of Winterfell and Lord of Harrenhal and yet he did not live within either castle, it was as if fate was playing some cruel game. He was a lord and yet he had no home other than King’s Landing, and he knew that could disappear as well, could go if King Joffrey found him disagreeable, thankfully the king did not find him disagreeable and least not yet, and so he continued to remain in high favour. The same could not be said for Sansa though, his sister who was foolish enough to speak words the king did not want to hear, or rather did not care to hear. Sometimes, Bran wondered how his sister had become so stupid, and why it was the gods had chosen to allow her to live and yet had taken Arya, that did not seem fare to him. And yet he looked at her now and listened to her speak.

“You know Joffrey will not look kindly on you for ever Bran, surely you have seen just how changeable he is. He will find something disagreeable about you soon enough and then what will you do?” Sansa asks.

Bran looks at his sister and says. “I will do what must be done to survive here. I will make sure our family does not suffer for Robb and Jon’s treason.”

His sister looks at him with something bordering on fear, and Bran feels anger grow inside him, Summer perks up then. His sister however merely says. “They are doing what they think is right. What Joffrey did was wrong Bran, surely you know that? Surely you do not think that father was a traitor?”

Bran hesitates a moment and then the voice says _Remember what we said Bran, remember what happens if you do not continue with the action._ He blinks once and then says. “Father tried to remove King Joffrey from the throne without any evidence, he did not give proof of what he claimed. King Joffrey is King Robert’s firstborn son.”

His sister snorts then. “And do you truly think that father would have made the claims he did if he did not believe them to be true. Joffrey is no true king, no king would ever have allowed father to die in the manner that he did.”

Bran looks at his sister, stares at her and says. “Father confessed to his treason, you know he did. Why do you continue to defend him?”

“Because I know father, I know he would never confess to something unless it was forced from him. You saw the sword hovering above his head, just as well as I did. Father always said that a vow made with a sword over your head is no vow at all. Why then would he do that if not to protect us from the heinous crimes of the king who now sits the throne?” Sansa responds.

Bran looks at his sister and says. “If that is true, then he is not the man I thought him to be. Father, or the man I thought was father would have been someone who would have stood through everything and come out victorious no matter what.”

His sister sighs then. “He did what he did to protect us Bran. Arya was free, but we were not. He needed us to be safe, why can you not see that?”

“Because, father was not a coward. What he did was cowardly. If he wanted us to be safe, he would have fought.” Bran snaps, Summer growling now.

His sister sighs once more. “And you think what happened with Arya was any less cowardly then? Joffrey has not liked Arya, he never liked Arya, not from the moment he saw her. And now, well now she is dead, but she was not killed by Joffrey, surely by your standards, that means Joffrey is a coward. For if he were a true man he would have killed Arya himself.”

Bran stares at his sister and says. “King Joffrey is the king, he does not get his hands dirty. Besides, we know that Arya was found dead, she was not killed on Joffrey’s orders.”

Sansa laughs then, and her laugh sends shivers down Bran’s spine, for to him it is the laugh of a demented woman, not a sane one. “Oh Bran, sweetling, do you truly believe that? Joffrey is not the man you think him to be. Truth be told, he is not even a man, he is a boy, a monster at that. Surely you can see that? He does not treat anyone fairly, he is a leech and he is corrupting the court.”

“What does this have to do with Arya?” Bran asks his anger flaring.

“Joffrey ordered Arya’s death, Bran. Can you not see that? Can you not see how he has twisted and blinded you to the reality? He ordered it, he made sure of it. How else do you explain the Gold Cloaks finding her so conveniently? He knew where she was and he killed her.” Sansa snarls.

Anger grows inside of him, a painful thing this anger, but it flows through him nonetheless. “Then surely the blame must rest with our beloved brothers? They did nothing to find Arya, or even get her to safety. Instead they allowed her to be captured and killed. They fight in the west, knowing they are placing us in more danger than ever. Where is the honour in that?”

He knows he has hurt Sansa with that, but he does not care. He wants answers, and he wants them now. His sister is silent a long moment and then says. “We do not know that Bran. For all we know they could have been looking for ways to get to Arya, and to free us as well.”

Bran looks at his sister then and says. “Look who is being naïve now sweet sister. Our brothers do not care about us, they never have.”

“I can see that trying to talk to you is not going to be of any use.” Sansa says turning and leaving his room.

Bran waits a moment and then he too walks out of the room and comes to find himself before the king’s solar, where two of the Kingsguard stand guard. He looks at them and says. “I must needs speak with the king.” there is a moment of silence and then they let him enter. He finds the king lounging on a sofa, and says quickly. “I know what my sister is planning with your sister Your Grace.”


	52. Chapter 51: Greyjoy

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**4 th Month of 299 A.C. Somewhere in the Iron Islands**

**Theon Greyjoy**

The banners had been called, and just as his uncle had promised, the lords who were allied to his uncle had come, as had many more. Theon was astounded at just how many lords were against his father, it seemed that Balon Greyjoy was no longer the pride of the islands, rather from speaking with these lords it seemed he was now the scourge. The rebellion he had led some ten years ago and the deaths the islands had suffered since, were still lamented, and now, a candidate in he had come forth to challenge Balon, and it seemed those lords with sense in their heads were fighting for him. Theon was honoured by this, felt that he owed these men and women an debt that he might never be able to pay, but still it was something he needed.

His father had not been slow to respond to the challenge that Theon posed to his rule, indeed, his father had rallied from Pyke, taking the Iron Fleet with him and now they were to fight it seemed. There were ships across the water, Theon saw them, knew that there was a time for nerves, and that it was this time, he took a breath and then the commands came. He had never thought it would come to this, but his father had not given him any choice, taking a breath he draws his sword from its sheath and then steals himself as the ship moves forward. The ship rams into the enemy ship and soon enough there is fighting, Theon takes a deep breath and raises his sword and the killing begins.

His sword sings with the blood that is shed, he knows that this war is a stain against the drowned god, for Ironborn do not kill Ironborn, but if he thinks about it, he has not been a true Ironborn for many years. Another crime his father has to answer for, he swings his sword and watches as a man falls to his death, another swing, and then he moves on. He meets a brute of a man, and swings his sword, the steel clashes, and sparks fly, on they go, swinging, and slashing, dancing to the beat of their hearts. Theon barks words, words he himself does not understand but still they go on, swinging his sword, slashing, hammering through the bitter cold that is the sea.

He watches as men fight around him, dressed in full armour, unafraid of drowning, in some ways he envies them that ease of fighting. That lack of fear, for he is himself stuck without knowing how to move, he moves but he does not know whether this is the right thing. There is doubt in his mind, but his body reacts instinctively to those who are coming toward him, with his death on their mind. He does not wish to die, and so he fights back, he gives all he has to fight these fools who are fighting for an old man. Theon barks commands and his men push onward, taking control of the ship they had boarded and now they are moving onto new spoils.

Theon looks to see whether his uncle has moved the iron fleet into position, but it seems that he has not. Instead the ships of his father’s allies are all that he sees, their men coming toward him with murder in their hearts. Theon meets their shouts with a shout of his own, he swings his sword and cuts one man down, and he takes another’s arm off, and then blocks another’s blow. He pushes through, his men coming with him, he wonders briefly if Asha will be there in amongst the fray, he does not think so, perhaps she is with their father on Pyke if that is the case, he means to give her a choice.

There is much of his family he does not know, he barely remembers his mother, and he saw her last when he was a boy. Another thing that his father has to answer for, he roars a challenge and meets those who answer it with a laugh and a swing. As Ironborn kill Ironborn, Theon feels something akin to anger grow within him, this is all his father’s doing. His father who never once cared for him, who never even bothered replying to any of his letters, his father, who is not his father. Theon roars a challenge once more, and this time more men come streaming towards him.

Theon feels the blows of their weapons on his armour, he feels himself begin to lose focus, but he knows that he cannot give into the temptation to sink as he so desperately wants to. He knows that the time is not right for that, and so he pushes through, his men are around him and as one they move through the forces that oppose them. His mind is a blur, he does not know truly, where to go or what to do, and he only knows that he must continue fighting, he must not give in, and he must most certainly not die. His sword is wet with blood, his armour is stained with blood as well, all is red around him, and still men come before him.

He finds himself desperately hoping that the Iron Fleet does not come into battle now, for gods’ alone know how they will succeed against the Iron Fleet. Tiredness is clogging his mind now, and he knows sooner or later things are going to come to a head, he can feel it in his mind and his body, but still he pushes through. More and more of the men being thrown at him are dying or are dead, soon enough their time to take control will come to an end. As the last of the men who board this ship come and die, Theon feels his knees give way, but he has to keep fighting, he just has to.


	53. Chapter 52: Final Decisions

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**4 th Month of 299 A.C. Bitterbridge**

**King Renly I Baratheon**

He knew riding from Storm’s End so soon after taking it from the siege was somewhat foolish, he knew his lords were grumbling about it, at least the lords of the Stormlands were, but he knew that he could not allow this threat to go unchecked. The Florents were dangerous, he’d always known that, they had powerful allies and the ten thousand men they’d taken back with them from Bitterbridge were some of the toughest fighters Renly knew were in the Reach. He knew as well that this was what Lord Florent wanted, he wanted him drawn away from the Stormlands and from King’s Landing, but Renly did not intend to go charging into the fight, he was going to lure Florent to him. Of course there were some minor things that needed to be sorted out first.

“The Florents are in position I take it my lord of Tarly?” Renly asks, the hour is late but there is much and more that needs discussing.

“They are Your Grace. They are marching through the passes that lead them toward Cider Hall. With them are the Osgreys, the Beesburys and Blackbars. They are marching with some haste it seems.” Tarly responds.

 “No doubt he means to bring us running toward him like a fool. Of course that shall not be done, though an early probative force must needs be sent out.” Renly says.

“I would volunteer for that Your Grace.” Loras says almost immediately, things between Renly and his lover have been somewhat strained over the past few months, and Renly suspects that this Loras’ way of getting back at him.

Renly looks at his lover then and says. “Whilst I thank you for your enthusiasm Lord Commander, I must keep you here for the time being. No, Lord Mathis, you shall lead the early attack on the Florent host. Take ten thousand men with you and draw them toward Ashford.”

Lord Mathis bows his head. “It shall be done Sire, when do you wish for me to depart?”

Renly looks at the man and feels his suspicions begin to rise, there has been talk that Florent means to declare for the Targaryen pretender over the water, and Renly does not know whether or not he can trust Rowan, still his gut is telling him to send the man. “You shall leave today, before the sun sets. The men who shall be marching under your command are prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.”

“Of course Your Grace.” Rowan says, he stands then and when Renly waves his hand he walks out of the room.

Once Rowan has left the room, Renly’s goodfather speaks. “Was that wise Your Grace? Sending Rowan now? Surely he could be of more use here than out there away from your eye?”

Renly looks at the man and says. “He is a capable commander, and regardless, Florent is more than likely to come charging to meet him due to their old rivalry.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Lord Tarly says. “A smart move Your Grace. It will ensure that Florent is distracted when he hears of Rowan’s approach, a clever way to sow discord.”

Renly looks at Loras then, and sees that his lover’s face is etched in something akin to disapproval. Lord Mace speaks then. “And when will the rest of the army march out to face Florent? Is the whole army even needed?”

Renly looks at his goodfather and sighs. “Yes, the whole army is needed. Otherwise we shall look afraid. We must make a statement and ensure that those who are left following Florent’s defeat are engulfed into the army as whole. I shall not march on King’s Landing without the full strength behind me.”

“So you do intend to march on King’s Landing then Your Grace?” Lord Cafferen asks. “You do not intend to merely remain within the Reach trying to soothe something or the other?”

Renly looks at the lord then and laughs. “Yes, I always intended to march on King’s Landing my lord. It was merely that the Florent host must needs be dealt with, and I am determined to see it dealt with myself.”

“And what of the Stormlands? We all know that the false king on the throne is supposedly going to be coming to the Stormlands soon enough. What will you do about that?” Cafferen asks.

“He will never get the chance to come to the Stormlands for he shall be dead before then. I promise you that my lord. Joffrey the Illborn will never set foot in the Stormlands, not so long as I live.” Renly says firmly.

Both he and Cafferen stare at one another then, in the silence that follows and Renly wonders if Cafferen means to say something else then, but eventually the man looks away. Lord Mace speaks then. “My King, there is one thing that remains to us to discuss.” the man pauses as if uncertain and then he speaks. “It has come to our attention that as of yet, Queen Margaery remains without child, and though we know the marriage was consummated, the issue of your successor has become most apparent. There are some candidates who might be considered.”

Renly looks at his goodfather and knows the man means Edric Storm, his brother’s bastard, that boy was like a brother to Renly in some respects, and in others a complete stranger. All he knows is that he does not trust Mace Tyrell with his nephew and so he says. “My brother had many children, those who claim to be his children within King’s Landing are not his children, this you all know. Those bastard children he had with various other women are not in line for the throne.”

“Unless you legitimise them Your Grace.” Tyrell says hurriedly.

Renly merely looks at the man and then says. “Even with that, there is little in the way of true meaning they could give to the people of Westeros.” he pauses here and then pulls out his will. “I have here my will, should I die before siring an heir on Lady Margaery, I would name Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell, and Lord of Harrenhal as my heir, and I would instruct all loyal followers to go to him and to give him their support.”

There is a moment of shocked silence and then slowly but surely the lords gathered in the command tent affix their seals to the letter. That done, he hands the letter to Loras and says. “You are to ride with two other men to find Lord Robb and to give him this will. Leave now and you might well get there before battle begins.”

Before his lover can respond, a guard bursts into the tent and says. “Your Grace, forgive me, but word has come, it seems Florent and his army is already approaching.”


	54. Chapter 53: Gorgon

**5 th Month of 299 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lady Sansa Stark**

Sansa had not been sure what Bran had gotten from their conversation, but she desperately hoped that he was now more aware of just who and what Joffrey was. And yet judging by how he had acted around court, she presumed that he had not, and that made her sad, it also made her feel quite angry. Why was her brother so blind to the realities, yes he was young, but he was not stupid. Surely he knew just what Joffrey was, a monster, like something from one of Old Nan’s tales, Sansa did not know why he continued to cling to Joffrey, it worried her, it frightened her, and it made her want to scream. This feeling was strengthened by the fact that she had been summoned before the court, something that never boded well.

As she curtseys before the throne and says. “I have come as you wished Your Grace. To what might owe this pleasure?” She looks at the throne and sees Joffrey staring at her with malicious intent, she feels fear rise inside of her.

“Ah yes, Lady Sansa, my betrothed. You and I have not spent as much time together as I might have hoped. And yet, now I find myself wishing to speak to you before the court as a whole.” Joffrey says, he pauses a moment and then continues. “Tell me, my lady, what do you make of my sister, the Princess Myrcella?”

Sansa feels that this is some sort of trap, and she wonders why the King would suddenly bring his sister up, and yet she looks at the King and knows he expects a response, and so it is with some guardedness that she responds. “I like Princess Myrcella, she has been a friend to me.”

The king merely nods. “That is good, it is important that we all have friends. And yet I would censure my sister for being friends with a woman whose brother is in active rebellion against the throne. At least that would be my normal response, if you were not my betrothed and therefore, I must admit to some relief. Forgive me for not spending more time with you my lady.”

Sansa hesitates a moment and then says. “There is nothing to forgive Your Grace. You are the king, it is only right that you spend time looking after the realm.” the words come out reluctantly, and yet they still do come out.

The king laughs then. “Ah yes, I had forgotten the courtesies that you could speak Lady Sansa. Now tell me, my lady, have you and my sister been planning something?”

Sansa hesitates once more and responds. “I do not understand the question Your Grace.”

A ripple passes through the crowd then, and the king looks displeased. “I asked you a simple question. Have you and my sister been planning something?”

Sansa feels something akin to fear shoot through her then, she looks around the throne room, but notes that Myrcella is not present, but her brother is. She gets the feeling that something has happened. She looks back at the throne, and sees that the king is looking at her intently. She swallows nervously, and then responds. “No, we have not been planning anything Your Grace.”

The king laughs then. “You are still a bad liar my lady. I know you have been planning something with my sister. I had word from a very reliable source that you had been planning something, and as such I would hear what it is you have been planning.”

Sansa looks at the king then, fear growing within her, she knows then what it was that her brother had done, and she feels a deep sense of betrayal. She does not look at him, but she merely says. “We have done nothing Your Grace.”

The king laughs once more. “Tell me my lady, have you bled?”

The question is so unexpected, and so sudden that Sansa flounders. “I….I….” she stammers.

“It is a simple question my lady, have you bled? Yes or no.” the king says a malicious glint in his eyes.

Sansa is stuck, she knows that she could lie, but that would not serve to any purpose but her own pain, and she knows that Joffrey would delight in that. And so, she swallows and then responds. “Yes Your Grace, I had my first bleeding some three moons ago.”

The king looks at her and then at his mother. “And were you aware of this mother?”

Sansa closes her eyes then, knowing as she does the words that will come forth from the Queen Dowager’s lips and what they mean for her. “I was not Your Grace.”

There is a lot of murmuring at this, and when Sansa opens her eyes the king is staring at her intently. “You hid this from my mother, why is that my lady?”

Sansa swallows and then responds. “Because I was scared Your Grace.”

“Scared, scared of what?” the king asks.

Sansa takes a deep breath and says. “I was scared of what the blood meant. I had not been told properly, and as such was scared to find I had bled. It was foolish of me, and for that I beg your forgiveness my king.”

The king looks at her, no he stares at her, long and hard, and Sansa feels terrified, she feels as if she will sink into the wood work. Eventually the king breaks his silence and speaks. “You kept a secret from my mother and from me. That is something that should see you punished, but as you are my betrothed, I shall spare you from that.”

“Thank you Your Grace, you are very kind.” Sansa says hurriedly.

The king holds his hands up then. “However, since you are now a maiden flowered, I do believe the time is right. We shall fulfil the pact that your father and mine made. You and I are to be wed before the moon is done.”


	55. Chapter 54: Queen Of Thorns

**5 th Month of 299 A.C. Bitterbridge**

**Lady Margaery Tyrell**

The battle had been one of treachery and lies, it seemed that Mathis Rowan had never truly been one of their men, one of Renly’s men that he had been a Targaryen man all along. He had not left to fight the Florents instead the Florents and their men had come here to Bitterbridge guided by his actions and his words, and a battle had been fought. A battle that had ended with Mathis Rowan dead, and some of the main commanders of the enemy dead, the Florents and their allies had fled back southward, but Renly was dead as well, killed during the fighting. That thought was one that surprised Margaery still, Renly was dead, and she suspected a part of her brother had died as well. Margaery knew her father was delaying their departure waiting to see where the wind would blow, and it was growing more and more frustrating.

“Why do you delay father? You know what Renly wanted, we all know what his will is, and we should go to Lord Robb and present it to him. We cannot delay.” Margaery says.

“And leave the Florents around here to cause trouble? I think not. We must deal with them first.” Her father responds.

Margaery looks at her father and asks. “And do you truly think the Florents are as strong as they were before this battle? Lord Alester is dead, his son, we all know is not half the man the father was. Are you sure there is not something else holding you back?”

Her father looks somewhat discomforted by her astuteness and responds. “Well, truth be told, I am not sure why Renly chose to name the Stark boy as his successor. What claim does the Stark boy have to the throne? None that we know of, and besides, there are a litany of royal bastards around. And one who sits in Storm’s End right now.”

“Come now Mace, do you truly think the lords of the Stormlands will allow you to get your hands on their precious Robert’s son? By the gods no. They will fight you even more. I think it is telling that they have gone already, and it has been but a moon.” Margaery’s grandmother responds bitingly.

Margaery hides a smile, as her father looks at her grandmother and sighs. “We have far more men than them. We could easily overpower them if we had to.”

“Forgive me my lord, but that would be the height of foolishness. The Stormlords know their home far better than we do. And as such, we would lose far more lives than they would, should we resort to fighting. It is far better that we allow them to leave to their own devices and follow King Renly’s will.” Lord Tarly says.

Margaery smiles then, for she knows her father listens to Lord Tarly, and if he thinks that such a move is risky, then her father will think it as well. “And what do you suggest we do about the threat that remains within the Reach? About the Florents and their allies? They were not all defeated or slain during the battle. Only Rowan and Lord Alester are the known fatalities. What do you suggest I do about them? Allow them to remain here?”

“I would not suggest that, but I do not think it is worth while leaving a full force of men here my lord. Leave some men here and allow those men to fight the Florents and their allies. The death of the traitor Mathis Rowan will be a blow to them.” Lord Tarly responds.

Margaery decides to speak then. “Lord Tarly is right father, whilst I do not completely understand battle tactics, I know the politics. I know that the Lannisters will seek to use this chaos as a chance to come forward, with an offer. I would recommend going against it. After all, they are losing this war, we do not want to be on the losing side do we now?”

She can tell her father wants to disagree with her, and yet her grandmother speaks before he can. “You know the girl speaks sense Mace. Do not let your ambition get in the way of common sense. The Lannisters are finished. It makes far more sense to side with Lord Stark now, and to make him the king.”

Her father looks torn then, and she knows that they are winning this argument. “How am I to put this to my bannermen? That we are now going to be fighting for a northerner? A man who shares no connection to us other than the fact that he fought for King Renly? They would think me mad.”

“Or you could make them see that it is exactly because he is fighting for King Renly that he is worthy of our support.” Margaery says. “Lord Stark could have declared independence, instead he fought for Renly and has won many battles in Renly’s name. Renly recognised this, and recognised Lord Stark as someone who was a capable successor. Say that and the lords of the Reach will join you.”

Her father looks dubious, and he looks at Lord Tarly and asks. “What do you think my lord?”

Lord Tarly is silent for a long time, and in that time Margaery can feel her heart hammering. She so desperately wants her father to agree to march toward the west and toward Robb, but she does not want to give away the reason why, not just yet. When Tarly responds she breathes a sigh of relief. “I believe Lady Margaery is correct my lord. We must march westward, and we must make the lords of the reach see why this is the right thing to do.”

Her father sighs then, and closes his eyes, there is another long silence, during which Margaery feels as if she is going to explode from all the nerves and tensions within her. Eventually her father speaks. “Very well, we shall march out from here and head toward the west. Loras you have the will?” her brother nods mutely. “Very well, let us begin.”


	56. Chapter 55: The Mannis

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**6 th Month of 299 A.C. Dragonstone**

**King Stannis I Baratheon**

He had been beaten by his brother outside Storm’s End, a defeat that still rankled him, it angered him actually, now that he thought of it. Renly, the brother who so often did more than he was supposed to, the one brother Stannis had actually had any patience for. Renly had beaten him, and that was something Stannis was not sure he could ever truly forget. He had fled like a craven back to Dragonstone, and now, well now his brother was dead, slain in a battle with Florents and their allies. That his wife’s family had not even declared for him was another wound, and something that deeply angered him. And yet his brother was dead, and the Lords of the Stormlands were now without a king, for they had refused to march with the Tyrells, and Stannis, well Stannis was set on getting his lords.

“Tell me Ser Davos, what would you have me do? The Lords of the Stormlands, are by rights mine now. My brother is dead, he died without issue, and we all know that Lords of the Stormlands will not declare for the bastard who sits the throne, so do tell me my good Ser, what you would have me do?” Stannis asks.

The Onion Knight remains calm and says. “I believe, Your Grace, that you should sail for Storm’s End, and summon the lords of the Stormlands to you. Of course, first you must take Storm’s End. And we know that Ser Cortnay Penrose will not open the gates to you.”

“A problem that is easily dealt with Your Grace, all you need to do is ask, and he shall be removed.” Melisandre responds.

“Do that, and there will be even more doubt over whether or not to fight for you, Your Grace. The Lords of the Stormlands will look upon Ser Cortnay’s death with great suspicion and might well decide against fighting for you because of it.” Ser Davos says.

“Renly and Robert are dead, by rights they should be fighting for me regardless of what some senile old fool says.” Stannis says. “I am the rightful Lord of Storm’s End as well as the true king of Westeros. If they refuse to fight for me, they are no better than traitors.”

“But saying that to them, will not endear you to them Your Grace.” Ser Davos says. “You do not have the luxury of correctness, not with the few men you have left to you.”

“You would dare give orders to the king?” Ser Axell asks. “You who is nothing more than an Onion Knight.”

Ser Davos, remarkably keeps his cool. “I am merely giving the advice that I think is right my lord.”

There is a long silence following this, and then Stannis says. “If I do not use Lady Melisandre and her talents I will not take Storm’s End. I must take the castle if I am to have any credibility with the Stormlords. How then, do you propose that I take the castle Ser Davos?”

“Offer Ser Cortnay a chance to fight honourably. Challenge him to a duel, he cannot refuse you if you challenge him. Do that, prove that you are a good fighter, slay him in an honourable fashion and then take Storm’s End.” Ser Davos says.

“And you genuinely believe that Ser Cortnay will not have men in Storm’s End prepared to come and challenge the king, the moment that this duel begins?” Ser Axell says.

“I believe they will not. I believe Ser Cortnay will do as he said he would do the first time, and that he shall accept a challenge to a duel. That is how I would claim Storm’s End.” Ser Davos says.

Stannis looks at Lady Melisandre and asks her. “What do you think my lady?”

The woman looks at him then and says. “I think that Ser Davos is speaking out of some naïve sense of duty and honour. And yet we know that the lords of the Stormlands have no honour. For honour would have seen them fight for you, protest that you should have been Lord of Storm’s End, long ago. They have not done that, and therefore, if you are to claim them as your lords, you must act in a manner that will frighten them.”

“And you believe that using you, will do that?” Stannis asks.

“Yes, I believe so Your Grace. The time for softness is at an end, it is time now for you to show them, that you are a true Baratheon, the only Baratheon, and that the throne is yours. Being weak and honourable will not get you anything. Only force will.” the woman responds.

“I disagree Your Grace.” Ser Davos says. “You have the ships, you might not have the men, but you are more likely to get the men through fighting honourably. The Lords of the Stormlands respect strength, they do not respect sorcery.”

“Storm’s End is a difficult castle to take.” Ser Axell says. “There is no guarantee that King Stannis would succeed in taking the castle even if he agrees to duel Ser Cortnay, for there is no guarantee that those within the castle would remain agreeable to the terms.”

Stannis sees the look of horror pass through Ser Davos’ face, and for a moment, a brief moment he feels pity for the knight. And then he says. “It is a difficult choice, and if I had had more men perhaps I would have been willing to go through with a duel. But I do not have the luxury of time, and as such must make a move as soon as possible.” he pauses then, and then looks at Lord Sunglass. “You shall ready the fleet my lord, and be prepared to set sail.”

The man bows his head. “Yes Your Grace.”

Stannis turns towards Lady Melisandre and says. “Ser Davos shall take you by boat to the edge of Shipbreaker’s Bay. Work your magic from there, and see it done.”


	57. Chapter 56: Hail To The King

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**6 th Month of 299 A.C. Oxcross**

**Lord Robb Stark**

Oxcross, the sight of one of his greatest victories, the sight where he had just recently sent another Lannister army running, another Lannister commanded dead. Hollow victories as far as he was concerned though, Arya was still dead, Bran and Sansa were still prisoners, he did not know what was wrong with him. They were winning this war, but he felt as if he was dying inside. There was a feeling inside him that felt as if he were rotting, but he did not know how to explain it. And so, he immersed himself in planning the taking of the Rock as well as Lannisport, a war council meeting had been called and it was there that Robb now heard the messenger say the startling words.

“Say it again, say the words again.” Robb says trying to keep his voice calm.

“My lord, before his death, King Renly wrote his will and in it he named you his heir should he die without issue. He died fighting the Florents and their allies at the battle of Bitterbridge. I have come from Lord Mace bearing proof of this will, and the king’s signature.” the envoy says.

“Give me the will.” Robb responds sticking his hand out. The envoy gives him the will and he reads through it, and as he reads more and more, he gets a feeling of certainty and somewhat something akin to fear. He puts the will down on the table, and says. “You speak the truth. Thank you, you may go.”

The envoy bows and then kneels. “Thank you Your Grace.”

Robb looks at him and then extends his hand, and the envoy kisses his ring and stands and walks out. Robb then looks at the rest of the men in the tent, all of whom are starting at him, it is Jon who stands and kneels before him first. “Your Grace.” he says looking at Robb reverently. Robb stares at his brother as the other lords gathered stand and do the same. He looks at his brother, and then looks at Ghost who it seems is bowing before Greywind. He does not know what to think or feel, but eventually he merely nods and indicates his lords should rise.

He takes a moment to gather himself and then says. “Thank you all for your oaths. My lords, it has been a difficult time for us all. We have lost sons, brothers, fathers and friends during the course of this war, and now King Renly is dead. But I, will not give up the fight. We are so very close to breaking the Lannisters, we must make that final push. Ser Edmure, what word has come from your scouts?”

His uncle is silent a moment and then says. “My scouts have reported that the city watch of Lannisport seemingly are building up their defences, and the army of Daven Lannister or what was left of it are hurrying toward the city with all haste.”

Robb considers this, looks at Tyrion and says. “My first act as king my lords, is to name Tyrion Lannister as Lord of Casterly Rock and Lord Paramount of the Westerlands. He has shown nothing but loyalty to our cause and has provided us with some very useful information during the course of this war. Lord Tyrion, I would ask for one more favour. Tell us, what do you know of Lannisport?”

Lord Tyrion Lannister newly named Lord of the Rock takes a moment to reply. “I thank you for the honour Your Grace. You do me well in this. As to Lannisport. I know the city and the people, and right now they will be terrified, Daven Lannister is dead, the last remaining commander of any sense is now dead. They will be scared, but the city watch of Lannisport is one of the best forces in Westeros, they shall put up a fight. And furthermore, we do not have siege equipment. It would take time to build such equipment, time that we might not have. Therefore, it is either a war of attrition, where we starve them out, or we must storm the gates.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Robb speaks. “Both are interesting proposals, I would rather not storm the city that would give us losses we could well avoid. I do however, believe a siege to starve them out might well do us some good. Lord Bolton what is your thought on this?”

The Lord of the Dreadfort a man who Robb has come to suspect of harbouring ulterior motives, speaks softly. “I believe, a siege would be wise. There is no longer a force within the west that could rally against us. The city watch of Lannisport might be good, but they cannot last forever.”

Robb considers this and then says. “Indeed, this is true. Lannisport must be looking toward our army and wondering when we shall come. The more they grow to fear, the more they might well prepare. Unless....” he tails off then.

“Your Grace?” Lord Tyrion asks. “What are you thinking?”

Robb looks at the man and then says. “I think perhaps it is time we gave Lannisport an offer. It is time they decided what course they wish to take. Do they wish to resist the inevitable and suffer for it, or do they want to bend the knee and ensure that they benefit? Lord Tyrion, you shall accompany me and some five hundred men to Lannisport on the morrow. We are going to offer these terms to the people of Lannisport.”

There is a moment’s silence and then Lord Tyrion responds. “A wise idea Your Grace. I would recommend as well, that word be sent to Harrenhal, and preparations be made for your coronation.”

Robb considers this and then looking at the lord of the Rock says. “You have made contact with your friends within King’s Landing?”

“Yes Your Grace. They merely await your command.” the man says.

“Tell them to begin.” Robb says curtly.


	58. Chapter 57: Dragons

**7 th Month of 299 A.C. Pentos**

**King Viserys III Targaryen**

The waiting had been the hardest, waiting for his sister to come back with her horse fucker of a husband and his horse savages. The waiting had been hard, and his impatience had been growing. And now his sister was back and her husband was with her, and yet, and yet, there was much and more that had changed. His sister was more confident now, and she was not willing to leave her husband, her husband was not going to come with them across the narrow sea that angered him, that angered him a lot. The Volanteene fleet was waiting, the sellswords were waiting and now his horse fucking Goodbrother was not willing to cross the narrow sea, unbelievable. Viserys looks at them all and snarls, it is a disgrace, a true disgrace. He should never have agreed to this. He should have thought more about this, all along that this had been somewhat lacking, gods he did not know what to make of it, of all of this.

“Why is he not going to cross the narrow sea?” Viserys asks.

Illyrio speaks then. “He does not want to cross the water, he believes it is cursed.”

Viserys snorts then. “I should have known. This is something that always happens. The good things are always cut short. What is his issue with getting on a ship?”

Illyrio takes a moment and then says. “I think it is because the Dothraki have always been afraid of the sea, and they do not wish to worsen their horses.”

Anger flows through him then. “And it was you who told me that it would be worthwhile to marry my sister to the horse lord. Why did you suggest this if you knew that this would be the case?”

The magister looks at him then and says. “I had thought the Khal, would have seen the sense in invading.”

Viserys looks at the magister and then looks at Ser Gerion and says. “What do you think of the magister’s excuse Ser Gerion?”

Ser Gerion gives a lion like smile then. “I think that the man is lying, you can tell by how he is holding himself. He knew this would happen and is now trying to think of a way to negate the negatives.”

Viserys looks at the man and then says. “And you believe that he is not being truthful with me now?”

“Yes Your Grace.” Ser Gerion says. “He is lying to you.”

Viserys considers this and then looks at the magister, and then looks at Ser Gerion and says. “Kill him.”

The knight merely nods, unsheathes his sword, and then advances on the magister, in one fell swoop his sword is buried in the magister. Viserys looks at the man as he falls to his knees, blood foaming from his mouth. The knight then withdraws his sword and sheathes it. As the magister lies dying on the ground, Viserys looks at the knight and says. “We have tarried for too long here, I think the time is right for us to leave.”

“I quite agree Your Grace.” the knight replies. “The more opportunities we have to strike forth from here with the men and the ships, the better it will look for you.”

Viserys nods and walks from the room, the knight at his side. He stops a moment and turns to face the knight and asks. “Where would you recommend we land Ser Gerion?”

“Either Dragonstone or Maidenpool Your Grace. Dragonstone would be more symbolic and might well cause those with the pretender Stannis Baratheon to reconsider their allegiances. And yet Maidenpool would be more opportune and a good opportunity for rallying those Riverlords who remember where their loyalties lie.” Ser Gerion responds.

 Viserys considers this and then says. “I think Maidenpool would make the most sense. I am done with symbolism, it is time we took an active part in this war. My throne has sat vacant for too long. The time has come for the true king to reclaim the throne, and for the dragon to raise its wings.”

“I quite agree Your Grace. Enough time has passed, Westeros is ravaged by war, and is now crying out for their saviour. Be their saviour and you will be loved.” Ser Gerion says.

Viserys considers this, he can see it now, the people cheering for him, the crowds roaring his name. He can see himself sat on the iron throne, the crown of the conqueror on his head. He smiles at the sight of it, and he feels his blood begin to rise. “Send word to Dorne Ser Gerion, tell them to begin raising their banners. I want to begin the march for my throne immediately.”

“Of course Your Grace.” Ser Gerion says, bowing and then walking toward the captain of the fleet they will be using.

Viserys follows him, stopping to speak to his sister, his mouth tightens then. “You look well Sister. Being with child suits you well.”

Normally his sister would blush at this, and yet now she stands straight and looks at him in the eye. “Thank you Your Grace. I am well, the child is safe and well.”

“It is a shame that your husband decided against coming with us to Westeros. And a greater shame that you have decided to remain with him.” Viserys says.

His sister merely looks at him replying. “I think it is the right choice. A wife is to remain by her husband’s side at all times after all. You taught me that.”

Viserys feels something like sadness float up inside of him. Sadness that his sister is not coming with him, sadness that it has come to this. He cups her cheek and whispers. “I am sorry Dany, sweet sister, for it to have come to this. I wish you well.” he kisses her cheek then and turns and walks away, walks behind, leaving his sister to her fate, and knowing that his heart will never heal from this. He follows Ser Gerion and the captain and boards the ship the sellswords already on board. Time to go home, to claim his throne.


	59. Chapter 58: Sound Of The Kraken

**7 th Month of 299 A.C. Pyke**

**Lord Theon Greyjoy**

The battle had been a bloody one, they had fought long and hard, and Theon knew he would still bear the scars of the battle for many years to come. They had won one battle, and then another had come. Somehow they had beaten the Iron Fleet, he did not know how, and he did not want to think about that, all he knew was they had won and now he was Lord of Pyke, Lord of the Iron Islands. His father had died during the fighting on Pyke itself, slain by someone or the other, Theon did not mourn his father, his uncle Aeron had been slain as well, trying to get something from his holdout, the thing was missing. Victarion had bent the knee, and Asha, his sister was in chains, and that, that was where he was now, speaking with his sister.

He looks at his sister, so defiant even in defeat, and he says. “You know you could bend the knee and come out of here. It does not have to be like this.”

“I would not bend the knee to you. You, who allowed our father to die. What kind of son are you?” his sister spits back.

Theon looks at his sister and responds. “You think Balon Greyjoy was a father to us? Asha, he is the reason Rodrik and Maron are dead. His foolishness saw them die deaths they didn’t have to suffer. And he was going to bring the islands to destruction again. Mother has not been the same because of him.”

“So does that justify you removing him from power? Allowing his death?” Asha asks. “What kind of man are you?”

Theon sighs then. “I am the one who freed the islands from father’s madness. Surely you are not blind enough to not see how he would have destroyed the islands to fulfil something that is no longer possible? We are not the force we once were, it is time we adapted instead of continued blindly.”

“You would have us bend to the Greenlanders? Why?” Asha asks.

“Because under them we can gain new lands and territories. King Robb has promised us the chance to gain from the fall of the Westerlands. We can have more gold and land than we would ever have gotten from father’s plans. Surely you know that that is worthwhile? Furthermore, we are begin given permission to raid Dorne and those areas that might not bend to the king. We can get more from this than whatever it was father proposed.” Theon says passionately.

“And what then?” his sister asks. “What will you do when that is all done? The men will want more, what will you allow them then?”

Theon considers this question and then responds. “We shall raid those places that are hostile to the king. We have means of prospering other than through conquest sister. Father’s thoughts were outdated and dangerous. We cannot wage war with the seven kingdoms and hope to survive. Not on our own.”

His sister stares at him for a long time and then asks. “And what about Euron? What will you do about him? Father is dead now, he will learn of this and return. How will you deal with him?”

Theon feels a chill flow through him then. “I…I do not know. I do not remember Euron, I will need your help dealing with him. Please sister, do not make a choice we will both regret.”

At this Asha laughs and says. “Oh, you thought I was going to refuse? Come now brother, I am not a fool. I know that the time of father has gone. We must work, but first, please do remove these chains from my hands.”

Theon barks a command, and the guards come and remove the chains from his sister’s hands and ankles, and then she stands. He waits for a moment, his body tense, and then he relaxes as she willingly walks out of the cell and embraces him. When she pulls away she laughs at his expression. “Come now brother, let us walk quickly.” she says.

Theon follows his sister and then stops when she stops before the door leading to his room. She turns round and looks at him, and taking her lead, he pushes the door, and walks into the room, his sister follows. They both sit down, and Theon pours them both a glass of wine, and then speaks. “So tell me what happened with Euron, why is he so dangerous?”

“Because he is unpredictable. His unpredictability, is the reason why everyone is scared of him. Should he come back with his ships, it will mean war once more. And that, that is something most dangerous.” Asha says. “He has spies here I am sure of it, and that will mean soon enough he will know and return.”

Theon looks at his sister and sighs. “That most certainly dampens my plans, for I have been asked to begin raiding the Dornish coast by the king.”

“Your foster brother is he not?” Asha asks. “Are you certain he means to give you so much?”

Theon nods. “I believe so, Robb is an honourable man, and he will keep true to his promise. I have no doubt of that.”

His sister looks doubtful at that, and then she asks. “And why did you have uncle Aeron killed? That is going to cause trouble with the drowned men soon enough.”

“I did not mean to see him killed. He did not stop resisting and so he had to die. I would not tolerate his presence resisting. The Drowned men are divided though, and I intend to keep them that way.” Theon responds.

“And how do you plan on doing that?” his sister asks.

“By giving them the task to find out what it was uncle was trying to find when he was slain. Make them find it, and use it for my own ends. They will all want it, and only one can have it.” Theon says.


	60. Chapter 59: This Is The End

**8 th Month of 299 A.C. Outside Storm’s End**

**King Stannis I Baratheon**

He watched as Melisandre and Ser Davos was killed, he saw it from his ship, as the arrows of the Stormlords pierced them. He watched as the woman who had become his lover was slain, an arrow through the throat, he watched as the onion knight who was his closest advisor was killed, pierced with countless arrows. He watched and he felt numb, he did not know what to think or feel as he watched the two people whose council he had relied on the most, fell to their deaths within the water. He did not know how they had known that he was coming, he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, after all, the people of the Stormlands had never really cared for him. Never really thought of him as one of their own. It made no difference really.

“We still march.” he barks, and as the planks are dropped down, and the men begin pouring out of the ships, some five hundred men, determined to bring him his throne, he wonders if he will meet his death today. Forget that, he knows that he will meet his death, it has been known for some time. Archers on the hills of the rocks, fire their arrows and men are brought down to their deaths, Stannis looks at all of this and merely thinks that it is a shame, the fight is being brought down so soon, he would have liked to see Storm’s End once more, one more time. He wonders what will happen in the near future, and as the arrows continue flying, he sees men fall to their deaths, but some more men emerge unscathed, and he is one of those men.

His sword is unsheathed, and though its glow is weakening, he does not know whether that comes from Melisandre’s death, or the fact his own death is fast approaching. There are men advancing down the slopes towards him, his guards form up, but Stannis knows that today, without the magic, without anything else, he will be getting his just deserts. The thought of death does not scare him, it has never really scared him that much, not when there was so much more to worry about. Perhaps the gift of death was the relief from the pain that had been his life. His sword moves of its own accord, cutting through the throngs that emerge in front of him. He does not truly know what is happening, all he knows is that the urge to fight is strong.

He roars, the fighting begins growing stronger now, his men few in number, fight with the fierceness of those who truly believe in a cause. He knows that he could not possibly be the reason for that, no one has ever fought for him because they believed in him, and yet these men are fighting. He does not know how to respond to that, and yet he continues, his sword raised high, the men coming at him from all sides. He swings and slashes, cutting and swinging, roaring defiance, he was never one to roar before, but with Robert and Renly both dead, something of the Baratheon trait has to remain. He will not allow his family to die off without something of an impression.

His body aches, he wonders why if there are gods out there, they cursed him with such bad luck. He was there when his parents died, in this very bay, he watched as they cut through the waves to get home, only to be killed by the rocks on which the ship was smashed. He wondered at that, had done his own thinking when he had come to King’s Landing, had discovered the truth about who it was who had had his parents killed and he had never looked on that person the same way. Robert did not want to hear it, but Stannis had looked into it further and found that his estimation had been right. The falcon man had been the one behind it all, and that, that was what he did not understand, had not understood until he had worked with Jon Arryn. The man was corrupt, more so than he had ever thought possible.

Jon Arryn had already known about the incest, had known that the children were not Robert’s and had done nothing about it, Stannis could not understand that. Could not understand how one man could be so careless, the dynasty was on shaky ground, and now because of that, Stannis had acted. Jon Arryn had thought he might and so he had fled, he did not wish to die then, not before he had gotten all his evidence together, but then Arryn had died, and Stark had been named hand and it had all gone south. Stannis did not trust Stark, had never trusted Stark, and now as he faces his death, he wonders if that was perhaps a mistake. Something that he should have changed.

Stannis’s mother had always said that his stubbornness and unfriendliness would be the end of him, and he knew her to be speaking the truth. He was facing his death without an ally, he had pushed them all away. He wondered if that was because he did not know how to act around people, or if it was because he did not like people. By the gods, he was turning into a fool, his sword was somewhere, his body was bleeding and aching, he did not know where to go, where to look, he did not know where his men were, most likely they were dead, and gone, broken by his own absolute defeat. He is surprised to find that he does not much care. What is one more treachery, when he can finally end the pain that has been his life? Shireen will be cared for, Tywin Lannister has sense, and as such she will not lack for anything, so long as Stark does not find her, they will be safe. Stannis falls to his knees and laughs, as blood pours out of him.


	61. Chapter 60: Lannisport

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**8 th Month of 299 A.C. Lannisport**

**Lord Tyrion Lannister**

It felt strange to be sitting on a horse in front of the gates of Lannisport, as the titular Lord of Casterly Rock. For so long he had wanted to bear the title, and now that it had been given to him, he was curious as to how he would be received. So far, the Lannisters of Lannisport had refused to give them entry. For a whole month they had been camped outside the gates of Lannisport, and his cousins had refused to let them in, and yet now here they were riding out to meet with them. It was an interesting turn of events and Tyrion wondered what might have prompted this, and then he realised, his cousins were smart, they knew when to bend, and he felt some sort of contempt for them.

Tyrion looks at his cousin and listens as the king speaks. “Ser Jason, a pleasure to meet you. I take it you have come here to discuss the terms of your surrender?”

Tyrion looks at his cousin, Ser Jason Lannister, a firstborn son, Knight of the Golden Gate, and someone who had always wanted to be Jaime. “I have Your Grace. Having discussed it with the people of Lannisport, we see no reason to continue this siege.”

The king nods then. “Very well, I shall allow you to speak to Lord Tyrion, as Lord of Casterly Rock and Shield of Lannisport, it is for him to negotiate any such surrender.”

His cousin looks at him then, with something akin to ill-disguised loathing. “My lord. A pleasure to see you well and active.”

Tyrion snorts. “Come now cousin, let us not try to disguise the loathing we feel for one another. Let us be truthful and get on with this shall we. What are your terms of surrender?”

His cousin looks taken aback, but merely responds. “Very well then my lord. Having spoken to the council of Lannisport, it has been decided that we shall bend the knee to his Grace King Robb Stark, and shall recognise you as Lord of Casterly Rock, in return for a promise of protection from any retribution that is taken against the Westerlands. Furthermore, any gold taken from the west, Lannisport should be excluded from this.”

Tyrion looks at the king then, and sees something akin to amusement passing over his face. He looks at his cousin and responds. “And if we refuse to agree to those terms?”

“Then the gates of Lannisport shall remain shut to you and your army. And we shall begin preparing for another war.” his cousin says.

Tyrion looks at the king a moment, the king merely inclines his head slightly, and Tyrion then turns back to his cousin. “We have some of our own terms. We shall not take gold from Lannisport, however, we shall need access to your ships, and the bay, and furthermore, you are too allow the Ironborn to dock here for a time, before they begin their raids of the south. And furthermore, you shall give up five hostages to the king.”

His cousin looks strained then, and belatedly Tyrion remembers that his cousin does have a young son. After a long silence his cousin replies. “I have been given the right to answer any terms you propose. And as such, after much consideration, I agree to these terms.”

His cousin dismounts then, and comes to kneel before the king. He kisses the king’s ring and in as dubious a voice as Tyrion has ever heard says. “I, Ser Jason Lannister, Knight of the Golden Gate, as representative of Lannisport, do hereby pledge the fealty of the people of Lannisport, to Your Grace, King Robb Stark, from this day to our last.”

There is a long silence and then the king says. “Rise Ser Jason, and return to your city, tell them to open the gates, and to prepare a feast in our honour.” The knight rises, bows his head and then mounts his horse and rides off back toward the city. As they watch him ride off, the king turns to him and says. “That was far easier than I expected.”

Tyrion looks at the king and says. “That’s because these Lannisters have common sense. Most of the cousins I know do not. They are too afraid of my father’s shadow to know when to bend and when to fight.”

The king laughs then. “An interesting observation that. Perhaps that is why they are falling from power. You are aware of course my lord, that the Westerlands will not be as rich as it was before the war, for some time following the conclusion of all of this.”

“I know Your Grace. And I know the lords and the commons here might well be quite bitter about that. But I am ready and prepared to deal with that, and to make them see the good that can come from building from the bottom once more. My father’s time is over, and it is time we breathed as one once more.” Tyrion says.

The king laughs then. “I know I was not wrong to keep you on my side my lord. Now tell me, the Lannisters of Lannisport what are they like? Are they likely to remain true, or are they going to turn coat the moment they get the chance?”

Tyrion considers this question and then responds. “It depends on which Lannister you speak to and interact with. Jason, the man we just spoke with, he does not know how to be anything but loyal. Once he swears fealty he will break it unless he truly believes that his family is threatened. His brother Gerold is a trickier customer to know, he varies from time to time. But all in all they are a good lot.”

The king nods and then says. “When this is all done my lord, we shall need to have a talk. We must ensure something on this size never happens ever again.”

Tyrion merely nods, and watches as the lion of Lannister is brought down and the crowned direwolf of Stark is raised high and proud.


	62. Chapter 61: King's Hand

**9 th Month of 299 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

The walls were caving in, he could feel the pressure beginning to rise and fall. They were losing this war, and Tywin did not know what to do. It was strange, this feeling of helplessness, he had not felt this way since Joanna had died giving birth to that abomination. He felt as if he was sinking in water, as if he was not going to be able to do anything, anything of note, anything worthy of saving the cause. Plans to invade the Riverlands had been forestalled by the riots within King’s Landing, riots which he had crushed, and yet Tywin was nervous, for the first time in his life, he was nervous, he did not know whether or not moving from King’s Landing would be wise or not. All he knew, was that his grandson was out of control, and somehow, he had to reign him in, to protect the dynasty.

Thankfully it was not all bad news that was coming from the realm at large. As Tywin listens to maester Pycelle talk, he feels a deep sense of relief. “Stannis Baratheon and the five hundred men he brought with him to the Stormlands, were slaughtered as they put into Shipbreaker’s Bay. His red priestess and the Onion Knight were amongst the casualties.”

“Good, that is very good.” Tywin responds. “One less problem for us to have to deal with. With Stannis Baratheon dead, Dragonstone is left vulnerable and his daughter is still there. She shall prove to be a very useful tool in the time to come.”

“What do you intend to use her for father?” his daughter asks. Tywin has not failed to note how his daughter has been so quick to become a drunkard since news of Lannisport came. He feels bitterly disappointed in her.

“I intend to see her wed to Tommen, the two shall rule Storm’s End together once this war is done. With the Lords of the Stormlands now marching to King’s Landing to do homage to Joffrey, I do believe the time is right for us to bring about the reunification of the Baratheon lands.” Tywin responds.

“And what of Edric Storm? The bastard who was raised by Renly Baratheon and most of the Stormlords know? What makes you think they will not demand he be named Lord of Storm’s End?” Cersei asks.

Tywin looks at his daughter and responds. “Because, they know that a bastard would never receive a majority of support from anywhere else in the realm. Because the boy is associated with the Florents who are even now causing trouble for the Tyrells within the Reach. Edric Storm will not see another sunrise past his next nameday that you may be certain of.”

There is a silence in the room following that, and then Cersei says. “Very well then, I shall leave it to you father. Now, with regards to the wedding, so far the total expenditure has been within our limits, and as such it seems all is going well. I just need to know the issue with regards to the guards.”

Tywin looks at Kevan then who is serving as master of laws, his brother responds. “The guards and the city watch know their duty. There will be some five hundred of them posted within the great throne room during the ceremony alongside the Kingsguard. Furthermore, there will also be a further two thousand men from the Lannister army posted within the Red Keep and escorting the royal party throughout the wedding.”

His daughter nods. “Very well. We are on time for the preparation of food, and should have all of Sansa’s ornaments prepared by the end of the week.”

Tywin merely nods. “Very well then.” he pauses and then looks at Baelish. “What word has there been from the Iron Bank regarding the loans?”

Tywin looks at the man and awaits his response, he does not know why but for the longest time he has been quite suspicious of the master of coin. Questioning his motives almost at every turn, it has become quite tiring, and it seems that he no longer has such patience. When the man responds, Tywin finds himself looking through his words to find a hint of a lie. “The Iron Bank are becoming more and more determined to see the loans paid off my lord hand. The money that was given as an initial payment has been processed, and now they wish for the full loan to be repaid.”

Tywin sighs then. “They are aware of our predicament I trust?”

“They are my lord hand, but they are becoming quite insistent on the loans being repaid within the year. They have some sort of policy that has now come into place.” Baelish responds.

Tywin looks at the man, assessing whether or not he is telling the truth. Unable to find a hint of a lie he responds. “Do you not have those within the bank who could make the powers that be see some sense? We are one of the bank’s most prolific clients, it would be a shame for them to forget that.”

Baelish smiles then and says. “I can most certainly try my lord hand. I know the new head of the Iron Bank is not as amenable to some of my charms, as the previous one was. And yet, I think with the right words I can make him see sense.”

“Very well. See to it.” Tywin responds. He takes a moment to think about how to phrase the next question and then turning to Varys says. “You have word on the Targaryen boy I take it?”

The eunuch nods. “I do my lord hand, he is sailing from Pentos with the fleet of a sellsail king known as the Crow King, and the man has brought with him some four hundred ships and some ten thousand men it would seem. My spies tell me that it will be at Duskendale that he lands. For he plans on marching from there and into the south.”

“Send word to Lord Rykker, tell him to be prepared. I want this man thrown back into the sea.” Tywin responds.


	63. Chapter 62: Marriage of Fear

**9 th Month of 299 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lady Sansa Stark**

Robb had not come for her, she had held out hope that he would come for her, that her brother would be the knight she had always thought him to be. But he had not come, no he was somewhere else, she did not know where, but she knew he had left her here, left her here to marry Joffrey Baratheon. The worst man in the seven kingdoms was to be her husband, she felt as if she could cry. She did not know what to do with herself, she knew nothing about it, and yet she knew something was going to happen. She could feel it within her bones, but she kept quiet. Sansa had long ago learned to remain quiet. Her brother was no help to her now, he was long lost, Myrcella had been sent off somewhere else, she did not see her now as she stood in the Great Sept, and listened to the High Septon drone on.

“We are gathered here in the Great Sept of Baelor, the home of piety and the Seven, to witness the marriage between His Grace, King Joffrey Baratheon, and Lady Sansa Stark. This union will be the death to those who would raise themselves against their rightful sovereign, and having been given the consent of the Lord of Winterfell, can now proceed.” The High Septon says.

Sansa hears the king say. “Who comes?”

“Lady Sansa of the House Stark, a maiden flowered. Who claims her?” her brother asks.

“I, Joffrey of the House Baratheon, King of all of Westeros do claim her.” the king says.

Her brother leaves her at the altar, and walks behind her. Sansa looks at the king, sees his grin and she feels something akin to fear and hatred stir within her. The High Septon speaks then. “Before the sight of gods and men we do hereby ask the king and Lady Sansa these questions. Do you promise to be truthful to one another, do you promise to comfort one another through sickness and health? Do you promise to be faithful to one another?”

Sansa can hear the lie in the king’s voice when he says. “I do.”

Sansa takes a moment but eventually she also responds. “I do.”

“Do you promise to protect the holy union of man and wife? Do you promise to make sure that the Faith of the Seven is the one true faith and that all else shall be discarded?” the High Septon asks.

“I do.” the king responds gleefully.

Sansa considers this and hesitates a moment before responding reluctantly. “I do.”

“Then let us begin this marriage with the seven verses and the seven prayers.” The High Septon says.

Sansa looks at her brother from the corner of her eye and sees that her brother is not paying attention. She focuses back on the High Septon and repeats the words he says. “I, being of the flesh and blood, do hereby promise to never break from the Faith, for it is the one true faith. I shall defend it with all due measure and process. I shall make sure that my children know it as their faith, and all other faiths are destroyed before it.”

Before the High Septon can say the next lines of this most grievous of crimes, the doors to the Great Sept open, and as Sansa turns round she sees men, heavily armoured walking in. “Stop this ceremony right now. In the name of Hugor the Hill, we demand this ceremony stop.”

There is a moment’s silence and then the High Septon says. “The king stands before you. He is Hugor of the Hill come again.”

There is another moment’s silence, in which Sansa’s heart begins to race, the figure who spoke laughs then. “Do not insult my intelligence boy. Now stop this ceremony or pay for your crimes.”

Joffrey speaks then. “Stop this nonsense at once.” he looks at the city watch and the Kingsguard. “Arrest them.”

The city watch move forward as do three knights of the Kingsguard, however, before they can get any closer to the armoured men, they are dead. Arrows through their throats, there is a scream and then the armoured men move forward. “Kill them!” Sansa hears Joffrey scream, she feels nerves run through her, and she looks at Lady, and sees her direwolf is acting up now.

The chaos that comes from the fighting is something that terrifies Sansa, she is pushed down in the commotion that follows, and feels something strike her, she feels something wet run down her face, but then Lady is there, soft and warm. She is grateful this kindness, and yet wonders why none had thought to object to Lady’s presence, it is almost as if none had seen her. She sees one of the armoured knights moving toward her, on his chest he bears the mark of an upside down cross, with seven swords around it. She wonders at that, and then he is before her. “You are okay my princess?”

Sansa looks at him uncomprehendingly. “I am…who are you?”

The knight laughs, a deep rumbling sound. “I am a friend of your brother’s. Come with me princess. We must get you away from here, before they notice.”

Sansa looks around at the chaos that is engulfing the Great Sept, and then she looks at the knight. “How?”

“If you come with me my princess, I can explain it all.” the knight responds.

Sansa knows that she should refuse, but the chance of getting out of King’s Landing is too intoxicating, and so she takes his hand and raises herself off the ground, Lady following. They push through the crowd, none seemingly noticing her disappearance, and soon enough they are running through the streets of King’s Landing. When they do stop, they are beside the gate of the Gods. “Who are you?” Sansa asks breathlessly.

The knight raises his helm, and she gasps at the grey eyes that stare back at her. “We are the knights of the green men. And we owe your brother our fealty.”


	64. Chapter 63: Carolus Rex

**10 th Month of 299 A.C. Harrenhal**

**King Robb I Stark**

They had ridden from Lannisport soon after the festivities had concluded. Robb knew that some of his men had wanted to remain within Lannisport for a little while longer to truly sample the delights of the city, but he was running on a tight rope. He knew he needed to be crowned and he needed to march on King’s Landing. Word had come as they had marched, Tyrion’s allies had done their part, Sansa was free from King’s Landing, but Bran remained, his brother it seemed had refused to leave, something that Robb could not understand, it was a worrying thing. His brother seemed to have been taken over by Joffrey and his ill begotten ways, and that worried Robb, it really did. Of course, the fact that the Tyrells were not yet at Harrenhal either worried him as well, he missed Margaery, and gods he missed her. But now he could not think of that, he needed to concentrate on what was happening before him.

The Green Priests were chanting, the godswood of Harrenhal was alive with sound, and smell. His lords bannermen, northmen and rivermen were all present. The Green priests chanted some old incantation in the old tongue, and then the chief of the Green Priests came before him. “Do you, Robb Stark, accept the Kingship and the burdens that come with it? Do you agree to rule as best suits your abilities? Do you promise to protect the poor and the innocent?”

Robb looks at the man and says. “I do.”

“Do you promise to uphold justice and the faiths of the realm, as they were when Aegon the Dragon came and became king?” the man asks.

“I do.” Robb responds.

The priest nods and then asks him once more. “Do you recognise the Gods of the Forest as your gods, and that you will protect them?”

“I do.” Robb responds.

“Do you recognise the gods of the water as your gods?” the priest asks.

“I do.” He responds.

On it goes, questions asked and answered, Robb begins to itch slightly on the throne before the heart tree, and then the priest says. “Then with this done, I with the power of old and new invested within me, do hereby name you King of the Seven Kingdoms. Lord Protector of the Realm. And I do hereby place the crown on Brandon the Builder atop your head, and name you Defender of all Faiths.” the crown is placed on his head and the roar of his lords is deafening. Through it all, Robb looks through the throng of people and finds his brother Jon and sister Sansa there looking at him smiling. When the lords come before him to do fealty to him and to congratulate him he acknowledges their words and then when the time comes, he stands and finds his sister and brother, both of whom had done their part.

“I had thought we might speak for a time before the festivities begin. If that is alright with you both?” he asks.

“Of course.” Jon and Sansa respond together, he has noticed since Sansa returned that she has been staying with Jon, spending a lot of time with him, and he does not know what to make of that.

They walk away from the throng of the lords and ladies, and then Robb stops and looks at them both. He does not fail to note that Ghost and Lady are sticking close to one another, whilst Greywind remains firmly at his side. “I am glad you are safe Sansa. I was deeply worried when you were in King’s Landing, and I…I know I did not always do right by you during that time, but I am trying to make it up to you now.”

He does not fail to note the look that passes between Jon and Sansa then and he tenses a moment but relaxes the next when his sister says. “It is alright Your Grace. I know you had many things to worry about. And still do, King’s Landing remains before you, as does the issue of Brandon.”

“Tell me about Brandon, what has compelled him to remain within King’s Landing. I would have thought he would have been more than eager to come to Harrenhal with you?” Robb asks. “Especially after what happened to Arya.”

Once more a look passes between his sister and his brother, and he finds himself wondering at that. Eventually Sansa says. “I do not know Your Grace. I think Bran has found himself someone to model himself on. It seems that they have offered him something that might well not have been considered before.”

Robb sighs then. “Winterfell. Of course it would have been Winterfell.” He sighs then, and noticing that his lords are looking at him he turns back to his siblings and says. “It seems the time has come for the feasting to begin. Let us move toward the castle.” And so in silence they walk, Robb does not fail to note that Ghost and Lady remain close side by side, Greywind as always remains firmly by his side, as do two of his Kingsguard, knights he had chosen during the time he had spent riding toward Harrenhal. Dacey Mormont and Marlon Manderly, both good fighters and northmen that he trusts implicitly.

They enter the great hall and the lords and ladies take their seats. Robb looks as they all take their places and then says. “My lords, my ladies. It has been an eventful year, we have fought and won, the lions are barely standing. But they do still stand. I mean to see that end. Before the year is out I intend to take King’s Landing. We are gathered here in strength, the lords of the Vale are here as well, and have sworn fealty, and for that we have my uncle Ser Brynden to thank.” his uncle nods, and then Robb goes on. “Let us drink and make merry today, for tomorrow we have much to be doing. To you, to Westeros, and to family!”

The cheer goes up around the hall and Robb gestures for all to sit down, and then he begins eating and drinking, as he watches the people within the hall do as he does, he notices his brother and sister speaking with one another, intently. He watches them and then leans back when Ser Marlon whispers in his ear. “My king, it seems the Tyrells have finally arrived.”


	65. Chapter 64: Lone Wolf

**10 th Month of 299 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Brandon Stark**

The wedding, it echoed in his mind, the images of those men coming into the Great Sept, and befouling it with swords and bloodshed. Sansa had gone, the traitor that she was, she had fled rather than stand and marry the king as was her duty, the honour she had been given by being chosen, she seemed unwilling to accept. Bran could not understand that, nor could he truly understand why it was that she had been so reluctant to marry the king, he was a good man, a kind one if you knew how to speak to him and act around him. Sansa had been blinded by her hate of him, and she had failed to understand just what being good could do, and so she had suffered, and now she had gone, and Bran was left, it was just Bran who was left of the Starks. The king had summoned him before the throne to speak about something, and he did not know what. Summer was by his side and for that, Bran was grateful.

The king looks imposing atop the throne. “Lord Brandon, do you know why you have been summoned before the throne today?”

Bran shakes his head. “I do not Your Grace.”

The king looks at him then and says. “Did you know your sister planned to escape from the wedding?”

“No, I did not Your Grace. I am just as surprised as you are by her treachery.” Bran responds.

The king stares at him long and hard, and for a long time Bran fears that something might go wrong here. He breathes a large sigh of relief when the king speaks. “We believe you. Now, we have decided that with your traitor of a brother marching on the capital, and with many other things due to happen, that we have some questions for you.”

Bran straightens then. “How might I be of service to you Your Grace?”

There is a long silence and then the king speaks. “You have grown up with your brother, this false king, as well as the bastard who carries himself like he is trueborn. You know their faults and their weaknesses, I would know what you know.”

Bran considers this, it is a lot that the king asks of him, but Robb and Jon truly have not recanted their sins, and now well, now Bran has a chance to end this stupid war once and for all. He looks at the king and says. “Very well, I shall tell you all that I know of my brothers.”

The king smiles then, and Bran feels his heart leap at the sight of that. “Very good my lord. Now tell me, what you know of your brother Robb. I want every detail that you think might be of use.”

Bran considers this and then says. “Robb can be quite arrogant, he knows he is good, and sometimes that can lead to him making a few mistakes. I remember in the practice yard he used to keep his lance slack in his hand sometimes, because he was so confident that he would win. Furthermore, he likes to think he is smart, but sometimes I wonder if that is just because he is hiding something else.”

“And what might this something be?” the king asks.

Bran thinks long and hard. “He is scared, scared of failing or appearing weak. Make him seem weak and he might make a mistake.”

The king looks thoughtful at this, and then responds. “And you think that your brother will still be like this now? Even after all this time has passed?”

“Yes,” Bran responds without even having to consider it. “Robb will no doubt think he is the very thing that makes the kingdoms move. It will be his downfall, it always was supposed to be that.”

“And what of the bastard? He is said to be your brother’s right hand, what is your thought on him?” the king asks.

This is a more difficult question for Bran, Jon is someone he has always respected, there had been no obvious sign of weakness in this brother of his, but there was one thing he knew Jon loathed. “The fact he is a bastard.”

The king grins then. “Go on my lord.”

“Jon, has never liked the fact that he is a bastard. He has always resented this fact, and the fact that it has never allowed him the same opportunities that Robb had. It is something that might well have been exaggerated further, by the successes Robb has had. Break him, you must break his confidence.” Bran responds.

“Very interesting my lord. Now tell me, what do you think your sister will do now?” the king asks.

Bran looks at the king confused. “Sansa my king? I do not think she will do anything but cower in Harrenhal like a craven.”

The king laughs at this. “Very good, so it would seem all is in order. Thank you for your words of wisdom my lord. They have been much appreciated.”

Bran bows. “I only wish to be of service to you Your Grace.” he hesitates a moment and then goes to speak but before he can the king himself speaks.

“I have sent word to Winterfell, your mother and youngest brother have been pardoned. They will not face any problems so long as they remain within Winterfell, and do not venture out of the castle. Furthermore, a member of House Bolton has agreed to provide assistance in the running of the north. This is agreeable to you?” the king says.

Bran does not know what to do, so he merely bows and says. “It is Your Grace. Thank you for such consideration.”

“There is one more thing. Since you have been a loyal lord, and have done much to aid me in this time of war, you are to be rewarded. A marriage between yourself and my sister Princess Myrcella is to occur soon enough.” the king responds.

Bran is stunned by this, he does not know what to say and so he merely bows and says. “I thank you for the honour Your Grace.”


	66. Chapter 65: Queen Wolf

**11 th Month of 299 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Queen Margaery Stark nee Tyrell**

It felt good to be back with her love, with her husband. Their reunion had been something, kissing, loving, she had missed this. Throughout her time with Renly, gods she had missed it, missed her love, missed her Robb. They had been married almost immediately following their reunion, and she had been proclaimed Queen. There were those who did not like it within the north, the vale and the riverlands, as well as amongst her father’s own bannermen but they kept their silence. Margaery looks at her love then, looking up from where her head had been pillowed on his chest and she smiles.

“Good morning my love.” she says.

Her husband, gods it feels good to say that word, smiles and looks down at her. “Morning my love.”

“How are you this fine morning?” she asks.

“Much better now that I have seen you my love.” he responds.

“That is good. Very good.” she says smiling.

She sits up then and looks at her husband who remains lying on the bed. “Forgive me for asking this so early Robb, but I need to know, what do you plan on doing with those who fight against you in the Reach?”

Her husband looks at her sleepily, but whereas Renly would have protested involving her in the war, Robb actively seeks her council. Now he sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I mean to send your brother Garlan to deal with those who are continuing to fight for someone or the other who is not me. I need your father here, and I need to keep Tarly close as well. Garlan knows how to fight, and he knows the lands as well.”

Margaery nods, she knew her husband was thinking of sending Garlan she just needed to hear it from him. “A wise choice, after all Garlan is by far a better commander than my lord father, and if you mean to name him Lord of Brightwater Keep, he will need to fight the Florents and their allies.”

Her husband is fully awake now, and he looks at her with interest. “Why do you think the Florents are still fighting?”

Margaery looks at her husband, and then rises from the bed, taking one of the sheets with her, she goes to pour some water for them both, handing her husband a cup she takes a sip from the other cup and then responds. “Because they want revenge. Alkeyne Florent is a proud fool and he needs to reassert himself on their army. And so they will continue to fight even if it has become apparent that they cannot hope to survive.”

Her husband takes a sip of water and sighs. “Typical. And it seems they are fighting for the Targaryens as well. Word has come that Viserys Targaryen has docked at Maidenpool, soon enough I will need to march from here and give battle to him.”

Margaery looks at her husband then and says. “Do you not think that that is what he wants? To draw you off from here, and to make you seem vulnerable? Though I suppose with the combined might of four kingdoms behind you, he would be foolish to think you are vulnerable. Though of course Maidenpool is a protected city, and Tywin Lannister is known to be marching soon enough.”

Robb sighs. “I know that, and it is for that reason that I must march. I cannot remain here, not for too long, as my men and lords will soon grow more and more restless, and a restless army is one that makes many mistakes.”

Margaery puts down her cup and kisses her husband then. “I know that my love.”

Robb deepens the kiss then, and Margaery hums with contentment, but then her husband breaks the kiss, and there is a look of such pain on his face she begins worrying. “Do you think I am a bad person my love?”

Margaery is taken aback by this question and says as much. “What makes you think that I would?”

Her husband looks at her, and there is such pain on his face, that she does not know what to say. “When word came of Arya’s death, I did not grief, not in public, instead I used her death as a rallying cry for the men, in order to inspire them to take on the Lannister forces that were left within the west. And I barely spared a thought for Sansa during the war, I fought and I prayed, but it was only after certain things were done that I ensured she was safe. And Bran, gods I do not know what to do there.”

Margaery moves in front of her husband and presses a finger to his lips. “You were fighting a war, you are fighting a war. And perhaps more could have been done, but what happened to Arya went against all the codes of conduct that we all know. You could not have foreseen that. You are doing what you can now. Sansa is safe, Bran, well he will be safe soon enough. I do not think you are a bad person.”

Robb looks at her and kisses her finger, but then he moves back. “I do not know what has come over Bran. From what Sansa has told me, it seems as though he is falling for Joffrey, but I do not know how that could be possible. And then, there is my brother and sister. I think there is something more going on there, but I do not know what it could be.”

“Well Jon is not truly your brother, if what you have told me is true, he is in fact your cousin. So perhaps that is not such an issue. And besides, is it not good that Sansa is at least finding someone to speak to in our family?” Margaery asks.

Her husband laughs. “I do not know what to make of it. Before this they never showed any thing towards one another, and now suddenly they spend a lot of time together. War makes for some odd friends.”

Margaery laughs then. “Indeed it does.”


	67. Chpater 66: Cousins

**11 th Month of 299 A.C. Harrenhal**

**Jon Stark.**

It was strange to think that he was now a Stark, his brother-cousin- had legitimised him. That was something that was never going to make sense to him, that Robb was king. He loved Robb, truly he did, but still, the thought of his brother as king, now that was something. Whether or not that meant Winterfell was his or not, Jon did not know, he supposed that depended on whether or not Brandon was willing to remove himself from King’s Landing, all the signs suggested otherwise. And then there was Sansa, he was not sure what his feelings for his cousin were, but he knew they were not sibling feelings, never had been, and that confused him, gods it was hard. It was even harder knowing the time they had spent together, and that Sansa had flowered into a beautiful maiden, gods it was hard.

He looks at her now, and he has to remind himself that she is but thirteen, he is sixteen, and there is a difference between them, even though he finds her lovely. He looks at her and then says. “What do you make of the Queen Sansa?”

Sansa looks at him a moment and then responds. “I think she is nice, and she loves Robb. She was kind to me when we were in King’s Landing. Why, what do you make of her?”

Jon looks at Sansa then, and he considers his answer. “I do not know. I want to like her, but I cannot help but remember that she willingly married Renly Baratheon, despite being close to Robb. I do not know what to make of that.”

“Do we know she did that willingly? Or was it to simply protect herself and Robb? After all we both know they married before the war began.” Sansa responds.

“Why did they not mention it to anyone? The mere fact that she managed to convince Robb that marrying her in secret was a good thing, to me suggests that perhaps she is not the best influence on him.” Jon says.

Sansa looks at him surprised. “I am surprised Jon. Usually you would speak up in defence of Robb, what changed that?”

Jon considers Sansa’s question and then responds. “You and Arya.” he pauses a moment then and then goes on. “I did not like how much he stalled when deciding what to do. He should have forgotten about the west and marched for King’s Landing. But he put revenge above you both, and well Arya died because of that.”

Sansa moves to stand before him, and she says softly. “Holding onto such things is not good Jon. He did what he thought needed to be done. And he did get me out of King’s Landing.”

Jon sighs then. “And what of Bran, what caused him to remain in King’s Landing? What madness could have made him think remaining with Joffrey was good sense?”

Sansa sighs then as well and responds. “As to that, I do not know. But I think there is more to it than meets the eye.”

Jon looks at her and asks. “What do you mean by that?”

“Have you ever felt as if there was something pressing in on your mind when you slept? Have you ever felt as if there was something watching you just out of reach?” Sansa asks.

Jon considers this and then thinks of the times he was woken up in a cold sweat, red eyes staring at him, and a crow perched nearby. And he looks at Sansa and responds. “Yes. Have you?”

His sister nods. “I have as well, and I know Arya did, and Bran does. I think there is more to it. I think this thing whatever it is might well be influencing him, but I am not sure.”

Jon looks at Sansa sceptically then. “I am not sure I agree. Whatever the thing is, it might just be playing tricks within our mind, something that we ourselves are creating. I think Bran has made his choice.”

“And so you don’t think he can be redeemed? He is still our brother Jon.” Sansa says.

“He might be your brother, but he is my cousin. And I do not think father would be very proud of what he has done.” Jon responds.

Sansa hesitates then. “I…I do not know what father would think of any of us.”

Jon reaches out to her then and pulls her closer to him, so that she is standing in between his legs. “He would be proud of Robb, and of you. And well, I do not know what he would make of me and Brandon. He would mourn Arya, but we are alive, and we must not break.”

He looks at Sansa then, and sees her looking at him as well, he looks at her mouth, and then at her cheeks which are rosy with colour, and he feels heat flow through him. Sansa places a hand on his cheek and whispers. “I know father would be proud of you Jon. He always was.”

Jon closes his eyes at her touch. “Why does it feel then as if he would not?”

He feels her breath on his face, and shivers slightly. “Because you always were one to think the worst even when there was no cause to think such a thing.” he feels her just inches away from him, he pulls her closer, so that she is resting against him.

“I do not know what to think anymore. This war has changed everything I thought I knew.” he whispers.

“Has it changed how you see me?” Sansa whispers.

Jon feels his breath tighten then. “Yes.” he whispers.

“Show me.” Sansa responds.

He tilts his face down then and presses his lips to hers, and when she groans with satisfaction he feels something shoot through him. He deepens the kiss, losing himself in it, in her, and gods it feels good, so very good. 


	68. Chapter 67: Maidenpool

****

**12 th Month of 299 A.C. Outside Maidenpool**

**King Viserys III Targaryen**

His councillors had told him to remain inside the walls of Maidenpool, that there could be no hope of defeating an army the size that the Young Wolf had with him, Viserys had laughed at that. He was not going to hide and cower behind the walls of a city, whilst the army of his enemy laid siege to it. He was a dragon, and dragons did not cower, they remained firm and they fought. He was not going to allow his reputation to be sullied by such thoughts. He had donned his armour, rallied his men and ridden out from the city to do battle, they had met the first wing of the Young Wolf’s army and right now Viserys was fighting them, his sword drawn, his voice hoarse, his blood pumping and his heart racing.

The crowned direwolf banner was flying in several places, and it angered Viserys, how dare this Stark boy fly a crowned banner, his ancestor had knelt to Aegon the Dragon, and that was where the Starks should have remained. He was not going to allow this pup to continue on with his pretensions, it was an insult to him, and to all his ancestors had worked for. The time had come to be done with the Starks and their allies. He roared a command and his men followed him, charging through the throng, swords drawn, slashing and cutting. Viserys was determined to be the one to kill Robb Stark, to make the boy see the error of his ways.

There are many men here, fighting for the Young Wolf, none had departed for his own banner, and that is something of a shock to him. For so long he had believed that the people of Westeros were just waiting for him to return, instead he finds himself facing an army of a size he cannot truly comprehend whilst he himself has just some ten thousand sellswords as well as a few thousand men from the crownlands and the riverlands. Gods the embarrassment of this all is something he knows he will never live down. He knows some would wonder why he thinks he might survive, but he has no doubt he will, he is the dragon, and dragons do not die at the hands of wolves.

Chaos, his men are fighting the force of rivermen he thinks, but he is not sure. They are hesitating to kill their fellow Riverlords, and something is holding them back. He sees them swing their swords with force, but not enough force to kill, something is there, and something is hindering them. Viserys roars an order and the sellswords follow him, they are alone loyal to him, but they are loyal so long as he can pay them, and he is beginning to wonder if he can. He also wonders what has become of Ser Gerion, the knight had been gone for some time, and he does not know where he might have gone. Or rather he knows full well where the man might have gone but he is not sure, if he wants to allow himself to admit that.

His sword is acting of its own accord now, there are men bleeding to their deaths, Viserys does not know if they are his own men are men from the enemy’s side, he does not care. He finds his thoughts drifting to the pirate king. Euron Greyjoy had brought him to Westeros and then had asked for permission to go raiding along the crownlands and though Viserys was somewhat reluctant to allow that, he had eventually given permission. Greyjoy was mad, and Viserys knew he would eventually have to deal with the man. Still for now he was causing the boy on the throne problems and that was all good. Dorne and the Florents and their allies were fighting the Tyrells within the Reach, and as such Viserys hoped they would be broken soon enough.

Viserys finds his thoughts turning toward his sister, perhaps it was a mistake not bringing her with him, perhaps he should have been more forceful, and more determined in that instance. He should not have allowed the marriage to that horse fucker, he should have said that she would marry someone suitable to her. He had been played by the cheese monger, and now he thinks about it, he had been played all along, it’s almost as if he was never supposed to be in Westeros in the first place, there are many things which are beginning to sink in now. If there had truly been so many Targaryen loyalists, why did they not try and bring aid to him and his sister when they were wandering around Essos? Why did they allow them to become beggars?

Such thoughts are discomfiting to him, he does not know what to make of them, though they do make sense now. Perhaps there is some truth in the rumours he heard, of his father being mad, and his brother even madder. Their actions would certainly proof such claims, he finds himself veering off into uncertainty now, trying to figure out how to reconcile this revelation with the battle before him. He cannot give up his claim, for if he does that he is likely to be killed, gods above, what is happening? How has it come to this? His sword is red, but there is another horn sounding and soon enough more armies are approaching, he does not know what to do, so he roars a challenge and moves forward to meet this new host.

Viserys sees death there waiting for him, her hands outstretched, and he finds himself willing to welcome her embrace. He finds himself tired, and weary, for so long he has carried a burden, and now he thinks about it, the more he finds that perhaps the burden was not worthwhile, he continues onward, his sword held aloft, death comes closer and closer. Eventually, he closes his eyes, and death welcomes him, he sees his mother there, her hand outstretched and he smiles. 


	69. Chapter 68: Find Yourself

**12 th Month of 299 A.C. Pass**

**Prince Oberyn Martell**

Doran was dead, word had come whilst they had been marching, and yet, Oberyn knew that they could not stop now. Finally, the chance at revenge they had been waiting for, for so long was here. Viserys Targaryen had landed in Westeros and they were going to put him on the throne, things were being done in King’s Landing to ensure that this happened, whilst there was fighting in the riverlands. Oberyn and the army of Dorne had met with the Florents and their allies near Honeyholt and then marched northward to meet the oncoming army of Reachmen under the command of one Ser Garlan Tyrell, Willas’ brother, he wondered how his friend would feel if he was to know Oberyn had slain Garlan.

The battle raged around him, Oberyn was mounted atop his horse watching the fighting with some interest. The Reachmen were very good at killing one another, then again that should come as no surprise the Reach had hardly been completely united under the Tyrells before the rebellion,  it should be no surprise that they were not united now. Men were killing one another, Florents were leading the charge. Alkeyne Florent was a strange one, Oberyn had the feeling Arianne might like him, but he could not quite pinpoint why. Still, he watched the battle emerge before him, and then when the moment he came he raised his spear and led the Dornish into a charge.

There is water running somewhere close at hand, but Oberyn ignores it, he knows the water, and knows that today is another day for war. His heart sings with that thought, for sixteen years he has waited for the chance to avenge his sister and her children, and today he is one step closer to achieving it. They meet the charge of Reachmen in a rush and a crash, and soon enough, Oberyn finds a use for his spear, taking out one, then two, then three of the flowers and then another one, and then another one. He laughs as he does so, watching them fall about him like wilted roses, a good comparison really, he continues forward, his spear making short work of those who try to challenge him.

His spear pierces through another man’s armour, and Oberyn watches as the man falls to the ground. Death and war, those were the two things he was good at, he was no good at patience and waiting, he knew how to fight, and how to live. He had waited for so long to get revenge, that for a time he had feared that perhaps he might not even know what he wanted revenge for, but then Doran had told him their time had come, the time had come to avenge Elia, and he had sung with joy. He had wanted this for so very long, had wanted to ensure that all was right before marching northward, and so he had set his affairs in order, had told Arianne what to do should both he and her father die, told her to keep a watch on Quentyn and the Yronwoods. And so they rode forth, and the fighting continued, Oberyn wondered if they might just win this.

The Tyrell boy was being far too cautious, his main reserves were holding back though his left wing was broken, the commander slain, the right wing was under deep pressure, and now the vanguard was being threatened as well. Oberyn knew the tactics and knew what Tyrell was attempting, and he was determined to prevent it, he roared a command and his band of men followed him, going through it all, the Reacherlords falling to their deaths, blood and gore was falling about the wayside. Oberyn knew that Tyrell was going to try and lull them into a trap, but he was too smart for that, he knew the trap, for he had told Willas about it some years ago, and now, well now his brother was going to die failing to implement it.

He sees the Tyrell vanguard begin to fall back on itself, and knows that they are going to try and form into a crescent, instead they are blocked by the wing commanded by Ser Gerold, and Oberyn laughs, he laughs at that, and knows then that victory has to be theirs, kill Tyrell and this will be over. He can see the man’s banner close at hand, and moves his horse toward the banner, determined to end this war right now. Elia will have her justice he will not stop until he has that, any who get in his way will be killed. He roars, and his spear goes through many men and even a woman he swears. That throws him, a woman on the battlefield? A woman fighting for the Reach? Who could she be? Dark hair and haunting eyes, no but she is dead, long dead, she died in King’s Landing.

Then again he had never truly believed she would die there, not like that, never like that. But gods, why is she here? Why has she come now? Why? Too many questions are filling his mind, it might well be a trick, something that those within the Tyrell camp had conjured up to distract him from what was happening in the field of battle. Gods, he laughs then, they nearly had him, but he is too old for that, too old and too experienced. He laughs and pushes forward, his spear guiding the attack toward Garlan Tyrell, and as they get closer, Oberyn gets the feeling that something is about to happen. The advance might have been halted but has it truly been stopped?

He does not know, but when the banner comes into sight, and he sees Tyrell there fighting his way toward him Oberyn roars, he throws his spear, and then throws another spear, and another, all kill those in front of Tyrell, when Tyrell comes before him he draws his sword and moves toward the man, but before he can attack, something goes through him, and he sees red.  Haunting eyes stare at him and he feels her mouth on his, and he sighs as the world goes violet and purple. 


	70. Chapter 69: Fallen

**1 st Month of 300 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Tywin Lannister**

The New Year had been welcomed in a solemn manner in King’s Landing, word had come of the defeat of Viserys Targaryen, his death and the slaughter of his army. It seemed that Robb Stark was not going to allow anyone who had thought for the Targaryen pretender live, and so now the city was quivering with fear. Tywin himself felt tired, so very tired, he did not know what more he could do to stop the inevitable march toward the city. The lords of the Stormlands had come to King’s Landing, had sworn fealty to the throne, and now the time was coming for battle, the only question was where and when. Tywin looks around the council chamber, and notes once more that Lord Varys is missing, has been missing for some time. He is tired, so very tired now.

“None have been able to find the eunuch?” Tywin asks, his voice sounding more resigned than he would like it to.

“No my lord. It seems the eunuch has disappeared well and true and despite the best efforts of the city watch none have been able to find him.” his brother Ser Kevan responds.

“How was he allowed to escape? And why would he escape? It makes no sense.” Cersei says.

Tywin looks at his daughter then and responds. “The eunuch was always someone who none trusted, and everyone relied on. He took an opportunity and fled.”

His daughter looks at him then, her eyes hard. “Did someone allow him to escape? It would not surprise me, I have learned that this city is filled with traitors.”

Kevan speaks then. “No my queen, none would have willingly allowed the eunuch to escape. It is more than likely he took advantage of the passageways he knew of, and escaped then.”

Tywin speaks then. “Enough. The eunuch is gone, that is of little importance now, what truly matters is the war. Pycelle, what word have you received?

The Grand Maester looks at him and then slowly says. “Euron Greyjoy, who has called himself the pirate king took his fleet and began raiding the coast of the crownlands has he was given permission to do so by Viserys Targaryen. Once that was done, he sailed to Dragonstone and sacked the island, killing Selyse Florent and her daughter Shireen. It seems he now intends to do battle with his nephew Theon Greyjoy for the islands.”

“Well, let is leave those two Greyjoys to their fighting. Perhaps they shall destroy one another and do us all a favour.” his daughter says.

Tywin looks at his daughter, and then ignoring her says. “Send word to Greyjoy, tell him that there will be a reward for him if he should so choose. The spies we have within his camp are still active are they not?”

“They are my lord.” the maester responds.

“Good, tell them to be prepared and ready for when the time comes.” Tywin responds. Turning to Baelish he says. “You have made the appropriate moves with the gold within the treasury my lord?”

“Yes, my lord hand. It is being moved out to a safe location far away from the eyes of Stark.” Baelish responds.

“And what of the iron bank, what are they saying?” Tywin enquires.

At this the master of coin smiles a sly smile and responds. “The head of the bank has been dealt with my lord hand. The one who is scheduled to replace him is more amenable to our needs and as such is promising to hold off on all debts until such time as this war is done.”

“Good.” Tywin says firmly. “Now, we know that Stark will be marching from Maidenpool, that city is in ruins and there are people fleeing in droves from it. The time might well have arrived for us to use that resentment to our advantage.”

His daughter looks at him then and asks. “What are you thinking? After all, the man has more men than we do.”

“He has a loose alliance of men who are traditional enemies. It does not take a lot to shake the foundations of such an alliance. He is no Baratheon nor is he a Targaryen, he cannot count on those who would traditionally support either of those two houses. We make use of that, and we send out men to find out the weaknesses.” Tywin says.

“But has that not been attempted before father?” his daughter asks. “It has been almost two years and still Stark remains strong, he legitimised his bastard brother, and the Tyrells are firmly behind him now, as are the north and the riverlands. Only the Vale remains somewhat suspect, but even they are likely to remain strong behind him. We have nothing.”

Tywin stares at his daughter then, she might have given into drink and he does not want to know who she has been sleeping with, but she is still smart somewhat. He looks at her long and hard, and then finally asks her. “What would you suggest then?”

His daughter looks at him and she says. “We have the Stark boy, we use him. Stark might not be willing to fight the army if he knows his brother’s life is in danger.”

Tywin considers this and then responds. “A sound plan, the boy will come with the army, as will the king. It is time Joffrey saw what it means to be a king.”

His daughter immediately begins protesting. “That that is dangerous and foolish father. Joffrey is not a warrior, he is but a boy, sending him out to fight would put him in the line of fire.”

Tywin stares at his daughter, giving her the same stare with which he struck fear into Aerys, and convinced him to make a choice that he might well be paying for now. “Joffrey is the king, he must learn how to lead sooner rather than later. He comes and fights with the army.”

His daughter looks as though she is about to protest but instead she merely responds. “Very well father.”


	71. Chapter 70: Winterfell

**1 st Month of 300 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lady Catelyn Stark**

Catelyn looked at her son, Rickon, the babe who was suffering the most throughout this war, he had been struck with a fever some three moons ago and it had not receded, even Shaggydog had suffered from it. Catelyn was worried about that, she did not know what to do, everything they had tried had not gone well, and now she wondered if the gods were punishing her. Bran was a prisoner in King’s Landing, Arya was dead, only Robb and Sansa were truly well and safe, and she did not know what to think of all of this. Gods it was all so confusing, she missed her husband, and she did not want her son to die, not Rickon, please not Rickon. And now there was word of Ramsay Snow’s approach, gods it seemed as if things were going from bad to worse. She left her son reluctantly, and walked out of the keep and toward the walls where she saw the approaching army.

Turning to Ser Rodrik she asks. “What do you think he wants?”

The old knight looks at her and responds. “What it is every Bolton has ever wanted. He wants Winterfell.”

“But why has he come now? Has Lord Roose allowed this to happen? King Robb is winning the war, surely they cannot expect to get away with this?” Catelyn asks aloud.

Ser Rodrik sighs. “I do not know my lady, what I do know is that we must be weary of whatever it is the bastard says.”

Catelyn looks at the man and then asks. “You have ensured there are enough men on the walls?”

Ser Rodrik gestures around them, to the archers on the walls, and to the men preparing within the ground. “Yes my lady. Should he propose anything you do not agree with, you need merely give the command and he will be done.”

Catelyn nods, and then looks as the banner of the Dreadfort comes to a stop. She looks down and sees the bastard of the Dreadfort looking up at her. Holding back her anger she says. “Ramsay Snow, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

She sees the bastard’s lip curl in displeasure. “I have come to bring the castle under the control of Lord Brandon Stark, under the order of King Joffrey Baratheon.”

Catelyn looks down at the bastard and responds. “I was not aware that House Bolton had turned traitor. Pray tell me why you feel the need to set things to rights here? Everything is under control as it is. We fly the banner of the king of Westeros.”

The bastard smiles then, a sick sight. “No, you fly the banner of a usurper. The true king sits the iron throne. Now open your gates, and we might have a civil discussion about this.”

Catelyn looks at the man and responds. “I do not think that was your intention Snow. Otherwise you would not have come with so many men. Tell me, what your intention is.”

The bastard smiles then. “I am merely here to ensure that Lord Brandon’s castle is in order.”

“My son King Robb is still Lord of Winterfell. Brandon is not lord of Winterfell so long as he lives or decides otherwise.” Catelyn replies firmly.

The bastard smiles once more a sly smile. “Does it appear as if your son holds any power? And I must say I am surprised my lady, I would not have thought you would have chosen one son over another. Especially one who holds your heart.”

Catelyn feels anger grow within her then and says. “I would not have thought a Bolton would turn traitor when his liege lord was winning the war. But then you are a bastard, so what is there to that.”

Snow looks angry then. “My lady, let us stop playing these games. Open your gates and we can settle this without violence.”

“Is that a threat?” Catelyn asks.

Snow looks at her and sneers. “It will be a truth if you do not open your gates.”

Catelyn looks at him then and merely says. “I refuse to open my gates to a traitor. Ser Rodrik see to this fool.”

The knight nods and then barks a command. “Men fire your arrows.”

Catelyn turns and walks down the steps, as she hears the first arrows begin whirring to life and toward Snow and his men. She walks from the walls toward the keep where her babe is, and she decides then that when this is all done, she shall write to Robb and tell him to kill Roose Bolton, that family has been giving them too much trouble for far too long now. She enters the keep and then enters her son’s room, Rickon looks sweaty and troubled, but he sleeps. Maester Luwin looks at her then and says. “He is getting better my lady, but there is not much more we can do other than wait.”

Catelyn looks at the maester and nods. “Very well. Tell me maester, what do you know of Ramsay Snow?”

“Not much my lady, I know he was sired on a commoner, but not much more than that, why do you ask my lady?” the maester responds.

“Because he has come to lay siege to Winterfell, claiming to be acting on the orders of the falseborn king on the throne.” Catelyn says. “I do not think that this is something that Roose Bolton has allowed, therefore I am trying to figure out whether or not there is anything more behind this.”

The maester considers this and then says. “I see no reason why Roose Bolton would allow something like this to happen, he has nothing to gain from it and everything to lose. I think that perhaps this is something the bastard has decided to do on his own accord.”

Catelyn is about to respond when a man who she knows to be Ser Rodrik’s squire. The man bows and then says in a rush. “It is done my lady, Ramsay Snow and his men are dead.”


	72. Chapter 71: War

**2 nd Month of 300 A.C. Somewhere within the Riverlands**

**King Robb I Stark**

And so it had come to this, one final battle, Tywin Lannister was approaching, or rather he was here. Robb’s army was strong, four kingdoms were there supporting him, whilst Tywin had only two supporting him, and it was rumoured that the illborn king was within his army a swell. Robb kept a look out for him, determined to make sure that when the boy appeared he had his revenge. He was commanding the northern forces as was his right, his uncle Ser Edmure commanded the Riverlands forces, Lord Yohn Royce the Vale forces and his goodfather Mace Tyrell nominally controlled the Tyrell forces. Word had come of the victory within the reach and the death of Oberyn Martell and any Targaryen support, a relief that, for it seemed things were going his way, though now Robb knew that he was facing a difficult task ahead. The throne lay there, only Tywin and his army remained in the way.

Before they had marched to war, Jon had asked him for permission to marry Sansa, and though Robb had initially been against such a thing, he had eventually decided to agree to it, and had named his cousin Lord of Winterfell as well, and was beginning to look into Roose Bolton as well. Word had come from his mother, about Bolton’s supposed treachery and though he was wary to believe the denials that Bolton was issuing on the matter, he knew when all was said and done he would need to make sure that House Bolton was dealt with once and for all. Jon had agreed with him on that, and it seemed agreeing to allow the marriage to Sansa had repaired some of what had been broken between the two of them before. He was glad of that, very glad, and had decided that when this war was done his brother would be his hand.

They march toward the battle that is to come, water is running nearby, Robb can hear it, Greywind is at his side, as is Jon, his brother in arms, and his brother by marriage. Things are going to be coming to an end with this battle, Robb knows this, knows that soon enough the throne will be his. He can sense it, can feel it within his very being. He will have justice for all that was taken from him, for father, for Arya, for Bran as well, though there has been no word from his brother at all. That worries him, and he wonders if perhaps his brother might well be dead, or truly lost. Robb does not want to think on that, for to think on it would be to bring the realms of death upon him once more, and he has faced death enough times in this life, gods is he tired. Still he roars the commands as the enemy host comes into sight, and then they are charging.

He draws his sword, determined to have his revenge. The men who meet him in the throng of battle are scared boys and men, who were summoned for the slaughter. Robb swings his sword, and cuts through them. How like Lannister to send the innocent to the slaughter first, the man and his house are falling to their knees, Tyrion might be a good ally, but Robb knows the Westerlands is in ruins, and might well not recover for many a year. He roars a challenge, and his wolf and his brother and their men roar it back. They fight the men coming toward them with much gusto, he swings his sword, and cleans through the lions as if they are nothing more than sacks of meat meant to be killed.

The lions are faltering the Stormlords are breaking as well, Robb’s forces are overwhelming them. As he sees this, he laughs, laughs and laughs. Oh the ignorance of Tywin Lannister, to be so overwhelmed by that simple act of courage, they are falling into traps of their own making. He laughs once more then, the Lannisters are being slaughtered, and his own sword is doing some of the work as well. Cutting through the soldiers offered by Tywin Lannister who remains weak and behind closed lines. Gods this is too easy, he wonders at that but then thinks that Tywin is breaking as well, and then he sees him, the boy, the boy who took his father and sister.

He roars a challenge, and he and his guards quickly move toward the boy and his guards. Robb and his Kingsguard slay the Kingsguard protecting the illborn boy, and then Robb falls on the boy. He swings his sword barking retorts on the boy. “I have come to bring your death Joffrey.” he roars, as he batters the boy, the boy’s sword is removed, and though honour would dictate that he allow the boy a chance to get another weapon, he does not care for now. Joffrey Baratheon will die, and he will die screaming. Robb kills him, and then kills him again keeps killing him until the boy is dead and broken, and there are more opponents coming toward him.

Tywin Lannister emerges then, the death of his grandson it seems cause enough for him to come and not hide. Robb, his blood up charges toward him, his Kingsguard at his side, they fight through the masses set to prevent him reaching the man who is before him. He kills them, he does not know how he does it, but he does. Soon they are dead, and Tywin Lannister and his brother is there before Robb, the man begins trying to flee, but his horse throws a shoe, and soon enough Robb falls on him, cutting him down and removing his head, blood up, Robb orders the massacre of the forces under Tywin’s command. This time there will be no escaping for them none at all. As he spurs his horse on he sees a fallen boy, and dead wolf, and he feels his heart stop.


	73. Chapter 72: War Of Krakens

**2 nd Month of 300 A.C. Summer Sea**

**Lord Theon Greyjoy**

The raids of Dorne had been successful, the Dornish had suffered heavy casualties during the raids, as had those who supported the Florents had done so during the Ironborn raids of their territories. Theon knew his men and women were somewhat sated by this but the conflict that they had now entered with Euron, was to be a deciding one, if they won this conflict, he would be hailed a hero, if they lost it, then he knew he would be a dead man. That thought was more than enough to motivate him, he had sent his uncle Victarion and the Iron Fleet ahead first, and now as he and the rest of the fleet came to call, he saw the ferocious din of battle, and his blood was rising.

His sister leads the charge of the ships, and Theon allows her to, things are still tense between the two of them, and yet he knows that soon enough she will have to come to terms with the fact that is indeed Lord of the Islands and that he will remain as such. He watches as the fighting breaks out for well and true. Reports had come in that his uncle had some two hundred ships under his command, but so far, Theon has not seen any evidence of this and as such is wondering if his uncle is not as powerful as many would have them believe. He waits for the right moment and then gives a nod and the rest of ships under his command begin to set sail to join the commotion.

His men lead the charge with song and praise. And soon enough the enemy comes into full focus. Theon draws his sword and as the ramming of the enemy ships begins, he holds firm, and then the boarding begins. He draws his sword and swings, one man then another falls. He still feels somewhat odd fighting with swords rather than bow and arrow, but he will not allow his men to think him weak, especially now with his uncle back from the dead. He barks commands and the men charge onto the enemy ships. Men fall and men rise, and all the while his blood is soaring, and he feels alive. He thinks he can understand why his people have for so long clung to the old ways, how does one match the high of battle in the boredom of everyday life? It will be a very interesting thing to consider when this is all done, and it is something he wonders at.

Marriage is another thing he will need to consider when all is said and done. Who he will marry and why all of it is being brought to his attention. His sister will need to be married off somewhere as well the question is where. Perhaps to Willas Tyrell? That might make things interesting and would certainly go a long way to ensuring that his people do not excluded from Greenlander politics. Of course getting Asha to agree to that is something else entirely. Or perhaps to Ser Edmure, heir to the Riverlands, that might be something as well. Gods sometimes he wonders why these thoughts continue to insert themselves when he is fighting a battle. He swings his sword, and then another ship is boarded and the process continues. There is much and more that needs to be done, but by the gods is he tired, and man he needs to continue fighting.

On he fights, his armour is chafing, something that he has grown used to. The concept of fighting with armour on the waves is something that at first he would not have thought of, nor would he have been willing to agree to, and yet here he is fighting with armour. A strange turn of fate that, that he who for so long wondered at Ironborn culture and laughed at it somewhat, should now embrace it so whole-heartedly, at least the parts that agree with him internally. He knows he has a way to go before he can ensure that his people are not going to be a source of problem for Robb, King Robb, rather. But perhaps fighting in this battle and winning can go a way to ensuring that.

He swears then, for he sees a body float past, and he thinks it might just might be Asha. And that gives him even more determination, he will not allow his uncle to win, to allow him that would be to give into those who claim he cannot be Ironborn, for his years in the north. His uncle Victarion knows how to fight though, and so Theon has to believe his uncle will win that particular fight, as far as Theon is concerned, defeating the swarms who are fighting for his uncle is a more pressing matter. Commands are given, and on he goes, swinging his sword, and fighting the press of bodies that comes forth. Pressing through it all, and ensuring that he maintains his balance and keeping an eye on the water, he does not want to be swept upon.

The ships rock as the battle continues and rages on. His mind is a tumultuous place, he does not know where it is going, but it is going through the motions. More and more he kills those under his uncle’s command, he does not know if there ever was a horn, but if there was, his uncle no doubt has found it by now. The thought scares him somewhat, but still he knows that the time for peace is coming, he must defeat his uncle and break his army to prevent anything the size of what happened during King Lodos from coming to being.  And he fights, and soon enough a roar is heard, and shouts echo. “Euron the crow is dead, long live the king. The crow is dead.” Theon laughs then, how fitting.


	74. Chapter 73: Explosia

**3 rd Month of 300 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Queen Cersei Baratheon nee Lannister**

Her father was dead, her eldest son was dead. The two people she had thought would never die, could never die were dead. And she did not know what to do. Tommen was now king, but there was little support for him, Robb Stark was marching on the city with some rapidity and Cersei found herself panicking. Memories of what Jaime had told her the sack was like keep floating through her mind, and she finds herself unwilling to allow that to happen to her and her children. And so in order to prevent such a thing, she had called upon the alchemist guild, and they had gotten to work, there was wildfire set up around the city, waiting for her call.  All she needed to do was give the word.

“Please Your Grace, consider what you are thinking of doing. What you have planned would cause terrible destruction and for what gain? Nothing.” Pycelle pleads with her.

Cersei looks at the man dismissively and says. “I will not allow Robb Stark to take my children in revenge, I will not allow the sack to happen.”

“Stark is an honourable man Your Grace, I do not think he will resort to such things.” Pycelle answers.

Cersei laughs at that. “He had no honour in him when he killed my son or when he killed my father. I do not think he should have honour left within him.”

Pycelle looks at her then and says. “Your father would never have resorted to such means. He would have waited and then used the tools he had available to him.”

Cersei glares at the man and says. “My father is dead. I am in charge now, and I shall decide what is to be done. Now tell me have you had word on where Lord Baelish is?”

The Grand Maester looks shaken then, but he responds all the same.  “He was captured trying to flee from the docks. He is in the black cells Your Grace.”

“Bring him here.” Cersei commands.

The order is given and then some moments later Baelish is dragged before her, she stares at him, her face filled with loathing. “You are a criminal my lord Baelish, and as such shall be forced to suffer the fate of a criminal. Give him the drink.” she commands.

Baelish screams as the drink is poured down his throat, Cersei watches as he fills with flames and then disintegrates before her. The lights are pretty, so very pretty. She wonders if this is what Aerys the mad felt like when he watched someone burn. She misses Jaime, but she knows that soon she shall be joining him. Baelish remains are there on the floor, but she does not care. “Bring my children.” she commands.

The men bow and then bring them before her. “Mother? What is happening?” Myrcella asks.

Cersei looks at her daughter, her daughter who looks so much like her and then she sighs and says. “There are bad people coming Cella, my sweet. I am merely making sure you are here with me, and are protected.”

Myrcella looks so much like her it hurts, and she is clutching Tommen’s hands fiercely. “Is it the Starks, are they coming here?”

“Yes.” Cersei responds simply.

Myrcella looks at her then, fear evident on her face. “Are they going to hurt us?” she asks.

Cersei swallows and then says. “They will try to, but I will not let them. They will come for your brother, because they are greedy and they want power, power they have no right to.”

“Why do they want to hurt Tommen? What has he ever done to them?” Myrcella asks.

“They are jealous of your brother, jealous because he has the right they do not have.” Cersei responds.

“It was Joffrey who did bad things, not Tommen.” Myrcella says.

Cersei slaps her daughter then, overtaken by a sudden anger. “Do not say that about your brother.”

Her daughter looks at her hurt and angry, but Cersei does not care, she has never truly cared about Myrcella or Tommen, Joffrey was always her son, hers, and hers alone. These two children left to her, she does not know, does not want to know. She is about to say something, but then the last remaining member of the Kingsguard comes to her and whispers. “They are nearly outside the gates my queen.”

Cersei nods. “Give the order.” she whispers.

“Your Grace, please reconsider.” Pycelle pleads.

Cersei looks at the man and says. “No. I will not put my children’s fate in the hands of a Stark.”

The man bows and walks off to give the order, Cersei turns to her children then who are looking at her intently, taking a deep breath she looks at them and says. “I want you to look at me, look at me and do not look anywhere else, do you understand?”

“What is happening mother?” Myrcella asks.

“Look at me my sweets, do not look anywhere else. Everything will be fine.” Cersei says soothingly.

“What’s happening mother?” Myrcella asks once more.

“The men are preparing for the Starks, for the bad people. Would you like a story?” she asks.

“Yes.” Tommen says instantly.

Cersei swallows then and says. “Once, long ago, there was a girl, a maiden, who was beautiful, but nowhere near as beautiful as you Myrcella. And she loved a knight, a knight who was fair and kind. But her father would not allow her to marry the knight nor proclaim her love for the knight. For her father was a powerful lord, who meant to wed her to a prince. But, the girl decided that she did not want to marry the prince, instead she ran away with the knight and decided to have children and to love him. For there is nothing quite like being loved.” She looks up and sees the flames being lit, she looks at her children then and says. “I love you both, so very much, so very much.” The last thing she sees before the flames engulf her are her children.


	75. Chapter 74: Final Summons

**3 rd Month of 300 A.C. Harrenhal**

**King Robb I Stark**

The image of the flames that had engulfed King’s Landing was burned into his mind, he could not understand how something like that could be allowed to happen. He supposed that Cersei Lannister had lost her mind, the flames had burned and burned, burned for hours, and when it was finally cool enough to think about going to the city, they had found almost everything within King’s Landing burned and dead. Ashes were left of people, and buildings, there was nothing left of anything, the throne had remained though, forged in dragon fire, it remained there, and Robb had looked at it long and hard but then had ordered it torn down, he would not want that throne near his reign. Much had happened since then, King’s Landing was nothing now, nothing but a burned out husk of a city, Robb and his army had returned to Harrenhal, which he had duly proclaimed his capital, the riverlands were now under his own personal control. Jon had been confirmed as Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North, and had been named hand. So many other things had been confirmed as well, and yet there was one thing Robb had had to deal with that he had been somewhat reluctant to deal with his brother.

Sat on the throne, Margaery by his side, Robb looks at his brother, Bran who had lost his wolf, who was now nothing more than skin and bones. He looks at him and feels his throat tighten. “Brandon Stark, you have been brought here today to answer for the crime of treason. How do you answer?”

“I answer that I am not guilty of any such crime.” his brother responds.

“So you do not believe you went against your liege lord and older brother by siding with Joffrey the illborn?” Robb asks.

“I do not. I believe you went against the law of the realm, and are a rebel and a traitor.” his brother responds.

There is a lot of murmuring at this, and Robb raises his hand and the court falls silent. “And what makes you believe this Brandon? Joffrey the illborn was a mad man, there are many who have given evidence to that account, and yet you remain unconvinced? Why?”

Bran looks at him with unseeing eyes. “Because, he was the rightful king. It did not matter if he were mad or not, he was the rightful king. And father always taught us to support the law.”

“Our father also taught us that when someone was wrong and blatantly wrong, we were to act to make them see the light, or to move them from the path of the right. Joffrey was wrong, surely you can see that?” Robb asks.

“All I see is someone who tried to avenge their father, and then became greedy. You do not have a claim to the throne, not the right one anyway. Nothing compared to King Joffrey.” Bran responds.

Robb feels anger grow within him then. “And what did Joffrey do to earn such loyalty? I am your brother Brandon, what happened to you?”

His brother looks at him and merely responds. “I learned that the law had to triumph over any sort of familial duty. King Joffrey was the rightful king, there was no proof of the accusations father, Lord Renly and others levelled at him. None whatsoever, and as such he remained the king. You murdered him in cold blood, and no good king would ever do that.”

“It was a battle. You understand that do you not Bran?” Jon asks, speaking then. “What would you have done if it had been Joffrey who had killed one of us?”

Robb sees his brother fix Jon with a cold gaze. “I would have thought he had done the just thing. He is the king, you are both traitors.”

“So you do not think you did anything wrong?” Robb asks.

His brother shakes his head. “No. I did everything father told me to do, everything he raised us to be, I was.”

“Father did not raise traitors, or oath breakers Bran. You demonstrated these two things when you refused to come home, and when you allowed Ramsay Snow to try and assault Winterfell, to attack mother and Rickon.” Robb says.

Something breaks then. “I did not know he was going to do that.”

“It came in your name. You must have known what Joffrey meant when he said that you were going to have someone inforce your word.” Robb responds coldly.

“I did not know. I did not think he meant something like that. Please, you have to believe me.” Bran pleads.

Robb is thrown by this change in demeanour and so asks. “What do you think should be done then Brandon? Shall I exile you, or pardon you?”

His brother’s eyes harden then, and they change. “Do whatever you want traitor. I will not take anything from you.”

There is a stunned silence from the court, and Robb feels anger grow within him as well as a sense of helplessness. “Do you deny the charges?”

“No.” Bran responds simply.

Robb sighs then, he closes his eyes and then opens them. “Then Brandon Stark, I banish you from the realms of Westeros. You are to not set foot within Westeros for the rest of your life, if you do so, you shall be killed on sight. Leave now.”

His brother looks at him and then laughs. “You do not see the change coming. You are all fools, and I shall gladly leave you to your death.” his brother turns and walks out of the room then.

There is a long silence, and then the herald looks at him and he nods, court is dismissed, and as he watches the nobles leave the throne room, Robb slumps in his chair. Margaery comes to him then and whispers. “You gave him a chance my love.”

Robb stares at her and whispers. “I know.”


End file.
